A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 


A    LADY    OF 

BY 

ETHEL  SIDGWICK 

AUTHOR   OF    "pROJnSE,"     "hEHSELF,"    "SUCCESSION,"    ETC. 


BOSTON 

SMALL,  MAYNARD  &  COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS 


/v 


q^  'tUi? 


COPTRIOHT,   1914 

By  Small,  Maynard  &  Company 

(incorfoeated) 

Second  Printing,  October,  1914 


J.  Parkhiil  &  Co.,  Boston,  U.S.A. 


-X53L3 


TO  MY  MOTHER 

THIS    ROMANCE    OF    YOUTH 
IS    DEDICATED 


•4  O  /?. 


^Z'] 


CONTENTS 


I.    GLASSWELL 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I    The  Rectory       3 

II    The  Family 17 

III  The  Rector 29 

IV  Charles'  Memories 37 

V    Among  the  Peas 50 

VI    Visitors  at  Glasswell 63 

VII    Tale  of  Achilles 79 

VIII    The  Schemer 95 

IX    The  Visit  Concludes 107 


IT.    LENNOXES 

I    The  Sticking-place 119 

II    Enter  Miss  Eccles 136 

III  The  Tale  of  a  Wink 155 

IV  Women  and  Forewomen 175 

V    A  Discovery        186 

VI    Charles  Retaliates 199 

VII     Friends       209 

VIII    A  Marquis  Becomes  of  Interest      .    .    .  225 

IX    A  Studio  Incident 245 

X    Growing  Pains 259 

vii 


viii  CONTENTS 

III.    FOREIGN  ADMINISTRATIONS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I     The  Disentangler 275 

II    Love-in-idleness 290 

III  Notes 302 

IV  Exit  Peacock 316 

V  Miss  Ashwin  is  Lazy 329 

VI     Rout  of  the  Schemers 340 

VII     Mrs.  Nickelby 356 

VIII    Alice  has  Enough 369 

IV.    HOME  AFFAIRS 

I    Return  to  the  Capital        385 

II     A  Tiger-lily        395 

III  The  Birthday 407 

IV  Inaugurates  Revolt 430 

V  Claude  Fails  Brilliantly 442 

VI    Conclusion 459 


PART    I 
GLASSWELL 


A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 


THE    RECTORY 

Glasswell  is  thirty  miles  out  of  London,  in  what 
the  occupants  of  Glasswell  Rectory  called  the 
Dickens  direction.  Annotated  for  the  ignorant,  this 
means  that  Glasswell  is  in  Kent.  Those  sentimen- 
talists, chiefly  foreign  and  transatlantic,  who  still 
delight  to  honour  our  greatest  imaginative  writer, 
and  divert  themselves  yearly  by  visiting  his  shrines, 
nearly  always  discovered  Glasswell  sooner  or  later 
in  their  wanderings,  and  frequently  took  a  meal  at 
the  Rectory;  for  it  was  an  unusually  open  house  to 
strangers,  with  a  "  show  "  garden  attached.  Also 
the  Rector's  first  wife  had  been  a  Dickens-lover,  and 
he  had  imbibed  a  large  measure  of  her  tastes. 

On  a  certain  day  of  late  spring  or  early  summer  — 
the  Rector's  double-cherry  blossoms  were  brown,  if 
that  conveys  any  evidence  upon  the  question  — 
Miss  Lois  Lennox  plodded  to  the  Rectory  to  call  on 
her  old  friend  Mrs.  Gibbs.  This  was  the  second  Mrs. 
Gibbs,  a  person  of  much  less  romantic  proclivities 


4  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

than  the  younger  one,  who  many  years  before  had 
spouted  Pickwick  to  her  husband  in  preference  to 
Scripture  texts;  and  she  was  quite  lately  installed 
as  a  bride  in  her  new  home.  Miss  Lennox  came  to 
see  her  for  two  reasons:  firstly,  she  was  spending 
a  few  days  in  the  neighbourhood,  and  had  a  natural 
curiosity  to  realise  her  friend's  surroundings;  and 
secondly  because  Mrs.  Gibbs  had  promised  to  be 
useful  to  her  in  her  new  capacity,  and  was  fulfilling 
the  obligation  with  great  promptitude,  according  to 
her  wont.  The  note  which  Miss  Lennox  carried  in 
her  bag  may  be  offered  complete  to  the  world  in 
illustration. 

"  My  dear  Lois, 

"  Certainly  come  Friday  towards  tea-time,  it 
will  suit.  I  will  keep  my  husband  in  if  possible,  but 
you  know  his  ways.  I  think  I  have  just  the  thing 
for  you,  but  I  cannot  be  sure.  My  stepdaughter 
Margery  is  visiting  at  her  uncle  Dr.  Ashwin's  house 
in  London,  and  she  writes  that  the  Ashwin  girl  is 
looking  for  a  job.  Whether  the  sort  of  girl  will  suit 
the  sort  of  work  of  course  I  cannot  say,  having  no 
first-hand  evidence.  You  had  better  hear  Margery's 
report  when  you  come,  and  talk  to  Maud.  They  are 
both  thoroughly  sensible  girls. 

"  Your  affectionate  friend, 
"  Henrietta  Gibbs." 


GLASSVVELL  5 

The  back  of  the  sheet  contained  directions, 
necessarily  complicated,  for  reaching  the  house, 
which  was  why  Miss  Lennox  had  retained  it.  The 
recurrence  of  the  word  "  girl  "  on  the  face  of  it  was 
pleasing  to  her  sympathetic  mind;  for  her  old 
friend  had  a  gift  for  the  management  of  girlhood, 
and  fate  had  only  granted  her,  by  her  former 
marriage,  a  single  son.  Now,  with  two  step- 
daughters, both  of  the  interesting  age  and  reported 
pretty,  it  was  evident  her  natural  talents  would  be 
well  bestowed. 

As  for  Miss  Ashwin,  the  young  relative  referred  to, 
Miss  Lennox  was  in  doubt,  for  she  had  met  the 
name,  and  had  certain  mental  connections  with  it 
that  were  unpromising.  She  was  inclined  to  doubt 
everything,  poor  woman,  that  promised  at  all  well 
for  her  advantage:  wherefore  it  was  delightful  to 
depend,  in  whatever  degree,  on  dear  Henrietta's 
advice  again.  Miss  Lennox  had  been  hardly  used 
by  fate,  and  was  visibly  battered  by  the  necessary 
resistance.  The  partner  who  had  been  the  inspira- 
tion of  her  little  dressmaking  establishment  at 
Battersea  had  lately  married  and  migrated  to  India. 
Nobody  but  Miss  Lennox  thought  the  partner 
herself  much  loss,  but,  even  in  Mrs.  Gibbs'  cool 
judgment,  her  credit  was,  and  her  capital.  Wanting 
the  partner  and  her  purse,  Miss  Lennox  felt  lonely 
and  unstable;  and  looking  about  her,  she  dreamed 


6.  . ;  ;  ..  \A  tADY  of  leisure 

of  a  nice  girl  with  money  whom  she  could  instruct. 
Now,  a  niece  of  the  Reverend  Arthur  Gibbs  could 
hardly  be  other  than  nice,  and  a  daughter  of  Dr. 
Claude  Ashwin  must  necessarily  be  wealthy.  It 
seemed  a  heaven-sent  opportunity, —  and  yet  it 
seemed  to  fall  almost  too  aptly  with  Miss  Lennox's 
desires  to  be  attainable.  This  was  her  state,  a  not 
uncommon  state  of  patient  depression  and  humility, 
when  she  arrived  at  the  Rectory  gates. 

Not  long  after  she  had  passed  them,  owing  to  the 
atmosphere  of  unhampered  ease  in  the  pleasant 
house,  and  the  impression  made  by  Henrietta's 
cheerful  looks  and  strong  accustomed  tones.  Miss 
Lennox  began  to  feel  more  hopeful.  Henrietta's 
new  circumstances,  —  most  thoroughly  deserved, 
too, —  seemed  ideal,  and  Miss  Lennox  commonly 
found  her  happiness,  faule  de  mieux^  in  that  of  others. 
Having  seen  the  house  from  top  to  bottom,  and 
rather  involved  herself  in  its  indiscriminate  praises, 
she  was  conducted  to  the  drawing-room,  and  intro- 
duced to  Miss  Gibbs,  the  Maud  of  the  letter,  a 
quiet-mannered,  pretty-for-all-practical-purposes  girl 
of  five-and-twenty,  and  re-introduced  to  Charles 
Shovell,  Henrietta's  own  son,  who  was  reclining 
languidly  on  the  low  window-seat  of  the  long  room. 
Miss  Lennox  had  not  enquired  much  about  this 
young  gentleman  in  latter  years,  having  vaguely 
gathered  that  he  was  "  unsatisfactory,"  and  being 


GLASSWELL  7 

exquisitely  timid,  especially  with  Henrietta,  of 
trespassing  on  painful  ground.  It  was  rather  com- 
forting, on  the  whole,  to  find  him  looking  very 
personable  and  prosperous,  installed  with  a  number 
of  magazines  among  innumerable  cushions,  and 
being  evidently  pampered  extremely  by  his  step- 
sister Maud. 

During  the  consumption  of  tea  and  strawberries, 
—  at  which  daily  duty  Mr.  Shovell  shone, —  pas- 
sages from  Margery's  letters  concerning  Miss  Ashwin 
and  her  projects  were  read  aloud,  and  Miss  Lennox's 
tired  spirits  rose  a  little  more,  for  Margery  was 
evidently  a  nice  girl  too,  and  the  letters  lively 
reading. 

"  In  my  opinion,"  Mrs.  Gibbs  commented  on  the 
reading  to  her  friend,  "  if  the  child  really  wants 
work,  she  couldn't  be  in  better  hands.  I  should 
think  her  mother  would  be  relieved." 

"  Oh,  Mamma,"  expostulated  Maud.  "  Aunt 
Evie  does  not  care  a  snap  what  Violet  does.  It's 
Violet  herself  I  w~\  thinking  about, —  and  Margery 
too " 

"  Personally "  said  Charles  from  the  win- 
dow-corner where  he  was  being  temporarily 
neglected. 

"  Oh,  we  all  know  what  Charlie  thinks,"  Maud 
intervened  with  a  sisterly  laugh. 

"  Personally,"  said  Charles,  his  dreamy  monotone 


8  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

a   trifle   more   incisive,    "  I   can   answer   for   Miss 
Ashwin's  not  being  offended  by  the  proposal." 

"  Offended'?  "  cried  Maud.  "  She  made  it  her- 
self."    And  his  mother  said,  "  My  good  Charles  I  " 

"  She  is  not  easily  offended,"  said  Charles,  looking 
over  Miss  Lennox's  head,  "  or  Margery  and  Maud 
and  their  father  and  my  mother,  holding  prayer- 
meetings  perpetually  over  her  in  the  drawing-room, 
would  long  since  have  been  definitely  resented.  Her 
own  mother  is  more  tactful " 

"  Aunt  Evie  tactful  I  "  ejaculated  Maud. 

"  More  tactful,"  pursued  the  patient  Charles, 
"  because  knowing  her  daughter,  and  respecting  her 
impulses,  even  though  she  may  not  always  under- 
stand them,  she  holds  off,  and  lets  Miss  Ashwin  be 
sole  judge  in  the  things  that  concern  her  solely." 

Having  concluded  this  peroration  in  triumph,  he 
resumed  his  tea,  Maud  laughed  openly  at  him,  and 
Mrs.  Gibbs  herself  joined  in  the  laugh,  though  she 
seemed  vexed. 

"You  would  really  think,"  she  addressed  the 
visitor,  "  wouldn't  you,  Lois,  that  Charles  was  a 
close  connection  of  these  Ashwins,  and  Maud  and 
Margery  had  no  claim  to  speak  on  the  subject. 
Whereas  the  contrary  is  the  case.  Charles  has  met 
the  girl  three  times " 

"  Twice,"  said  Charles  gravely. 

"Twice, —  the  second  time  between  trains,  as  I 


GLASSWELL  9 

happen  to  remember.  And  he  has  never  set  eyes  on 
the  mother  at  all." 

"  I  did,"  said  Charles.     "  I  saw  her  hat." 

"  Which  doubtless  gives  you  the  right  to  patronise 
her  parental  methods." 

Mrs.  Gibbs  spoke  in  a  bracing  manner  to  which 
Charles  was  well  used.  He  only  drooped  a  trifle 
more,  and  sought  for  a  more  happy  theme  out  of  the 
neighbouring  window. 

"  The  new  gardener,"  he  announced,  "  is  among 
the  peas,  studying  the  governor's  little  wind-mills. 
He  has  a  remarkably  fine  profile,  well-defined  at  this 
moment  against  the  western  sky.  If  you  will  come 
exactly  here,  Maud " 

But  nobody  wanted  to  take  up  the  diversion,  as 
it  happened.  The  Ashwins  were  a  most  fascinating 
subject,  and  Miss  Lennox  had  been  by  many  degrees 
more  interested  in  her  old  friend's  new  family,  on 
learning  of  the  connection. 

"  But  do  tell  me,"  she  said,  strenuously  sym- 
pathetic, to  Maud,  "  Of  course,  one  has  heard  of 
Mrs.  Ashwin,  I  had  no  idea  she  was  a  relation  of 
yours,  Miss  Gibbs." 

"  For  our  sins,"  said  Maud,  looking  down,  for  she 
was  shy.  "  She  is  rather  an  overpowering  personage, 
you  know.  As  you  see,  her  hat  was  enough  for 
Charlie.    My  uncle  has  titled  patients  by  the  string, 


lo  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

but  she  crushes  them  all.  She  beats  everybody  in 
London  —  except  Violet." 

"  Is  your  cousin  uncrushable  then?  "  said  Mrs. 
Gibbs. 

"  Well,  at  least  by  worldly  splendour.  Aunt  Evie 
is  acutely  worldly;  and  that's  where  Violet  scores. 
Isn't  it,  Charlie,  dear?" 

She  looked  towards  her  stepbrother,  who  smiled 
a  mystic  smile.  Charles  could  do  this  capitally, 
having  adaptable  features  and  far-sighted  eyes.  The 
smile  implied  that  he  could  have  found  far  better 
language  in  which  to  present  Miss  Ashwin's  circum- 
stances to  a  heartless  world,  if  he  had  been  allowed 
by  fate  and  his  mother  to  attempt  it.  As  it  was,  he 
smiled  at  the  view  in  conscious  superiority,  and 
watched  the  distant  gardener,  an  object  of  interest 
to  Charles,  since  he  was  new.  Miss  Lennox  was 
new,  of  course;  but  Charles  hardly  thought  she 
would  repay  much  study.  She  was  known  to  his 
mother  by  her  Christian  name,  refused  cream  with 
her  strawberries,  and  wore  drabby,  tender-coloured 
clothes,  the  clothes  of  an  aesthetic  female  of  the  last 
generation:  so  Charles  preferred  to  let  her  remain 
an  abstraction,  not  a  fact.  Now,  the  gardener  was 
a  handsome  fellow,  and  looked  unusual.  He 
promised  interesting  combinations  and  possibilities 
in  the  near  future,  not  unfathomable  to  a  young  man 
who,    from   various   ambushes    in   the   house    and 


GLASSWELL  1 1 

grounds,  might  have  him  in  view  during  the  whole 
of  the  long  vacation. 

Life,  it  may  just  be  mentioned  to  cheer  the  reader, 
was  sweet  to  Charles.  He  had  for  weeks  past  been 
coming  to  the  conclusion  that  his  mother,  whose 
success  in  life  had  hitherto  been  clearer  to  her  than 
to  himself,  had  fallen  into  a  soft  place  at  Glasswell 
Rectory,  and  that  holidays  of  unusual  comfort 
stretched  before  him.  He  was  not  at  least  to  be 
hurried  away  to  frowzy  hotels  in  foreign  places  for 
the  good  of  his  accent;  nor  was  he  bracingly 
encouraged  to  seek  invitations  to  the  houses  of 
profitable  friends.  Those  devices  were  things  of  the 
past.  His  mother,  a  recent  bride,  and  a  stranger 
like  himself,  was  happily  inclined  to  keep  quiet  and 
to  let  him  be;  and  he  could  lie  on  deck-chairs, 
compare  abstractions  with  realities,  and  relish  life, 
according  to  his  private  taste. 

Yet,  as  things  turned  out,  he  was  unable  to  let 
his  family  flounder  for  ever  on  the  subject  they  had 
chosen,  without  at  least  one  more  effort  to  put  them 
straight.  Unfortunately  for  Mr.  Shovell's  dignity, 
he  always  had  the  most  irresistible  impulse  to  talk 
when  he  most  longed  to  be  aloof  and  superior.  For 
instance,  when  Miss  Lennox  observed  too  gaily  that 
she  was  getting  quite  curious  about  the  girl,  Charles 
said,  "You  will  remain  so," — very  definitely;  and 
the  family,  who  had  forgotten  him,  jumped. 


12  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

Maud,  feeling  the  comment  was  rude,  explained 
it  away. 

"  Charlie  thinks  her  rather  supernatural,  you 
know,"  she  said  to  Miss  Lennox.  "  But  she  is  not, 
dear  thing,  the  least." 

"  What  is  she'?  "  said  Miss  Lennox. 

"  Indefinable,  obviously,"  said  Mrs.  Gibbs,  in  the 
pause.  "  Come  now,  Maud,"  she  encouraged  the 
girl.    "  Let  us  hear  you  paint  a  character." 

"  Margery  tried  to  paint  a  rainbow  last  week," 
murmured  Charles,  "  but  the  rainbow  faded  before 
she  matched  the  green." 

"  Don't  I  "  the  girl  said,  laughing.  The  combined 
stimulating  gaze  of  her  stepmother  and  Miss  Lennox 
disconcerted  her.  "Violet,"  she  began,  with  an 
effort,  "  is  very  pretty  —  and  retiring " 

"  Like  her  name,"  Miss  Lennox  smiled. 

"No;  not  modest, —  nor  reserved  even,  because 
she  can  talk,  can't  she,  Charlie^  " 

"  Fire  and  dew,"  said  Charles. 

"Oh,  dear,  isn't  he  tiresome"?  Why  don't  you 
tell  Miss  Lennox  yourself,  if  you're  so  eloquent^  " 

"  Miss  Lennox  is  concerned  with  her  practical 
qualities,"  said  Mrs.  Gibbs  rather  dryly.  "  No  one 
wants  fire  and  dew  in  a  workshop;  it  would  rust 
the  needles."  She  looked  surprised  as  they  laughed. 
Mrs.  Gibbs  had  dealt  largely  with  young  females  in  a 
quasi-professional  capacity,  and  she  found  it  hard 


GLASSWELL  13 

to  believe  that  her  husband's  niece  was  an  exception 
to  ordinary  laws,  though  she  knew  little  of  her 
beyond  what  she  gathered  at  intervals  from  Arthur 
and  the  girls.  But  she  suspended  judgment  on 
principle  until  she  had  studied  Violet  Ashwin  on  her 
own  merits,  apart  from  her  rather  disconcerting 
parents.  The  elder  Ashwins,  far  from  being  un- 
definable,  seemed  to  her  acute  judgment  simple 
enough.  She  wondered  they  should  interest  gossip 
as  much  as  they  did,  for  she  was  sure  she  could 
match  them  both  by  the  dozen  in  London,  and 
probably  their  daughter  too.  She  was  rather 
amused  by  what  she  privately  considered  her  step- 
daughters' "  airs  "  on  the  subject  of  this  connection; 
but  though  naturally  downright  and  penetrating,  a 
life  of  varied  trouble  had  taught  her  patience,  and 
had  given  her  at  least  a  fair  imitation  of  that  much- 
vaunted  commodity,  natural  tact. 

In  short,  Mrs.  Gibbs  waited ;  and  knitted  a  stock- 
ing for  Charles  to  fill  up  time. 

"  Is  she  thorough'?  "  asked  Miss  Lennox.  "  Does 
she  go  through  with  things,  I  mean,  Miss  Gibbs?  " 

"  She  goes  to  the  back  of  them,"  said  Charles. 

"  Yes, —  well,  it's  true,"  said  Maud.  "  She  might 
seem  to  take  up  things  rather  at  random.  Miss 
Lennox;  but  everything,  in  her  hands,  comes  out  the 
same.    She  makes  them  herself,  if  you  understand." 

"  It's  not  luminous,"  said  Mrs.  Gibbs,  knitting. 


14  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

Miss  Lennox  set  her  lips  oddly,  for  she  possessed  a 
sense  of  humour. 

"  I  don't  know  why  I  gathered  from  your  note," 
she  said  to  her  friend,  "  that  the  girl  might  not  be 
serious, —  quite  serious, —  in  her  desire  to  work : 
that  she  might  be  just  one  of  the  parrot-set,  I  mean, 
who  follow  the  fashion  and  repeat  the  cry." 

"  Which  cry?  "  said  Charles. 

"  The  toilers'  and  spinners',"  said  his  mother 
crisply.  "  You  would  hardly  have  noticed  it,  my 
dear;  but  it  has  been  about  the  world,  though  not 
perhaps  at  Cambridge." 

"  Oh,  yes,  yes,"  said  Charles  tolerantly.  "  I  only 
didn't  know  they  cried." 

"  They  don't  if  they  are  genuine  spinners,  Mr. 
Shovell,"  said  Miss  Lennox.  "And  little  Miss 
Ashwin  is  quite  in  earnest,  I  gather.  She  really 
wants  to  be  a  dressmaker." 

The  point,  thus  baldly  stated,  was  effective  at 
least.    It  drew  them  instantaneously,  all. 

"  Violet  will  make  the  most  lovely  dresses,"  said 
Maud  warmly.  "  Those  she  designs  for  herself  and 
her  mother  are  dreams." 

"  Her  work  is  neat  enough,"  admitted  Mrs.  Gibbs, 
who  had  seen  specimens  among  her  new  possessions. 
"  Neat,  if  a  trifle  meticulous.  She  is  not  a  common 
incapable,  Lois,  anyhow." 

"  Don't  let  her  prick  her  finger,"  said  Charles. 


GLASS  WELL  15 

A  pause  succeeded  this  remark,  which,  intensely 
as  it  was  uttered,  in  its  apparent  imbecility  cut 
Miss  Lennox  adrift  again.  Young  Mr.  Shovell  was 
really  too  silly,  she  thought,  and  a  couple  of  sensible 
women  such  as  these  might  stamp  on  him.  But  his 
mother,  rearranging  the  tea-cups,  appeared  to  hear 
nothing,  and  Maud  sat  smiling  as  though  the  allusion 
was  clear  to  her.  So  Miss  Lennox  (who  had  for- 
gotten her  fairy-tales)  regretfully  decided  that, 
Rector  or  none,  she  had  better  go.  Miss  Ashwin 
herself,  she  learnt  from  Henrietta,  was  expected 
with  her  father  at  Glass  well  on  Sunday,  and  she 
would  be  able,  being  kindly  asked  to  join  the  party, 
to  do  business  directly  with  the  doctor,  and  have 
the  benefit  of  a  clergyman's  counsel  too.  That  was 
the  greatest  boon  in  store,  though  Dr.  Ashwin, 
something  of  a  celebrity,  was  interesting.  Mr.  Gibbs 
had  long  ago  had  charge  of  the  parish  where  Miss 
Lennox  worked  at  Battersea,  and  he  had  since  loomed 
god-like  in  Miss  Lennox's  eyes.  Mr.  Gibbs,  it  may 
be  mentioned,  was  rather  wasted  on  the  part,  for 
almost  any  pastor  would  have  served  as  well. 

She  would  have  liked  to  have  a  few  final  words 
with  Henrietta  alone;  but  as  things  emerged,  she 
was  fated  to  be  seen  out  by  Charles,  who  always,  if 
mechanically,  did  the  correct  thing.  When  he  ceased 
lounging  and  stood  upright,  he  was  a  handsome  and 
graceful  youth;  but  Miss  Lennox,  deeply  concerned 


i6  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

about  serious  questions,  was  singularly  unobservant 
of  exteriors. 

"  Can  you  really  see  Mrs.  Ashwin's  daughter  at 
Battersea*?  "  she  demanded  of  her  escort  on  the  door- 
step, hoping  to  jolt  him,  as  it  were,  into  the  truth. 

"  Battersea,"  said  Charles,  and  his  vague  eyes 
came  to  rest  upon  her.  "  Oh  yes,  it  makes  little 
difference.  I  saw  her  the  second  time  at  Bletchley, 
on  the  bridge." 

"  Her  heart's  not  in  Harley  Street,"  was  his  final 
observation,  offered  as  the  abstraction  called  Lennox 
retreated  down  the  steps.  It  may  have  been  kindly 
meant  to  reassure  her,  but  it  sounded  more  like  the 
refrain  of  a  song. 


n 

THE    FAMILY 

"  You  would  really  think  Charles  desired  to  be 
thought  half-witted,"  remarked  Mrs.  Gibbs,  when, 
finding  her  son  had  no  intention  of  returning  to  the 
drawing-room,  she  bade  Maud  shut  the  door. 

She  spoke  soberly,  and  with  perfect  self-command; 
for  though  Charles  was  a  thorn  in  the  side  that 
pricked  her  constantly,  she  was  not  at  all  the  woman 
to  lay  herself  out  for  casual  sympathy.  She  was 
confiding  in  Arthur's  girls  by  degrees,  as  their 
sterling  qualities  became  apparent  to  her:  and  she 
thought  that  in  time  she  would  make  a  friend  of 
Maud;  but  she  wished  to  let  them  get  over  the  first 
fascination  of  the  uncomfortable  Charles  before  she 
started. 

To  her  own  mind,  he  was  the  one  weak  point  of 
her  strong  position  at  Glasswell  Rectory,  now  of  some 
five  months'  establishment.  She  had  made  apologies 
for  him  once  and  for  all  to  Arthur,  before  she  in- 
truded her  son  upon  his  household,  as  a  piece  of 
property  which  she  could  not  defend,  but  of  which 
she  saw  no  immediate  prospect  of  getting  rid.    She 


i8  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

had  warned  Arthur  that  Charles  would  criticise 
everything,  and  be  entirely  useless  in  parish,  house, 
or  grounds.  She  had  warned  the  girls, —  Maud,  that 
is,  since  Margery  was  the  danger, —  that  he  would 
probably  fall  in  love  with  them,  but  they  had  better 
take  no  notice. 

Neither  of  her  prophecies  had  come  to  pass;  for, 
firstly,  Charles  had  been  evidently  impressed  by  his 
stepfather's  personality  and  social  ideals,  and  knew 
every  child  in  the  village  by  name  at  the  end  of  the 
first  week;  and  secondly,  far  from  being  the  object 
of  his  fruitless  sighs,  Maud  and  Margery  promptly 
fell  in  love  with  him :  interrupted  their  useful  occu- 
pations to  listen  to  his  airy  rhapsodies,  and  showed 
him  off  to  all  their  acquaintance  with  the  pride  of 
girls  who  had  never  had  a  brother,  or  studied  a  youth- 
of  his  class  at  closer  quarters  than  across  a  drawing- 
room. 

They  were  good,  shy,  earnest  young  women;  and 
their  excitement  over  this  new  acquisition  of  theirs, 
during  the  first  weeks  that  succeeded  their  step- 
mother's home-coming,  was  so  naively  apparent, 
that  there  was  serious  danger  of  Mr.  Shovell's  being 
finally  and  flatly  spoiled.  But,  providentially  for 
all  concerned,  Charles  was  thinking  of  higher  things ; 
and  his  vague  eyes  seemed  hardl)^  to  notice  them, — 
or  at  least  Maud.  Margery  fell  under  his  gaze 
occasionally,  and  more  than  once  he  condescended 


GLASSWELL  19 

to  intimate  speech  with  her.  But  it  was  not  her 
handsome  exterior  that  attracted  him,  nor  even  her 
handsomely  stored  mind,  for  on  each  occasion  his 
subject  in  these  interviews  had  been  Margery's 
cousin  Violet,  in  whose  remote  existence,  in  her 
fairy  palace  in  London,  his  state  of  rapt  interest 
was  such  that  Margery  began  to  suspect  he  had 
encouraged  his  mother  in  her  new  connection  solely 
in  order  to  get  nearer  to  the  girl.  Charles,  for  all  his 
grumbling  at  his  mother's  methods,  and  for  all  her 
vigorous  treatment  of  him,  had  such  an  air  of  man- 
aging her  and  the  world  to  his  liking,  that  Margery 
thought  it  not  impossible;  and  she  imparted  the 
private  conviction  to  her  sister,  over  hair-dressing,  in 
the  seclusion  of  their  common  room. 

"  Is  he  in  love  with  Violet?  "  asked  Maud. 

"  Oh  no,"  laughed  Margery.  "  You  mustn't  even 
suggest  it,  darling.  It  was  all  by  moonlight,  don't 
you  see?    I  think  he  confused  her  v/ith  the  moon." 

They  laughed :  but  their  laughter  was  directed  at 
Charles,  not  at  Violet,  to  whose  moonbeam  qualities 
her  cousins  gave  their  due.  Even  to  her  own  sex, 
Violet  was  thrilling;  and  Margery  in  particular,  the 
contemporary  and  chosen  confidante,  was  her  sworn 
adherent.  It  is  true  the  adherence  had  to  be  mani- 
fested largely  on  paper,  for  though  the  Rectory  girls 
lived  but  an  hour  from  a  London  terminus,  and  were 
Miss  Ash  win's  most  immediate  kinswomen,  they  saw 


20  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

her  in  the  life  very  seldom:  for  reasons  which  only 
a  closer  acquaintance  with  the  circumstances  of  both 
families  could  make  apparent  to  the  enquirer. 

Their  mother,  the  first  Margaret,  who  died  when 
Margery  was  ten,  had  been  Dr.  Claude  Ashwin's 
only  sister,  almost  of  his  age,  and  closely  bound  to 
him.  Claude's  marriage  had  been  a  passionate 
though  private  grief  to  Mrs.  Gibbs;  and  her  deep 
disappointment,  and  painful  though  resigned  renun- 
ciation of  her  favourite  brother,  had  passed  by  re- 
flection, as  it  were,  to  the  girls.  Maud  especially 
guarded  the  inherited  grudge  against  "  Aunt  Evie," 
who,  contrary  to  the  advice  of  her  exclusive  inner 
ring,  had  known  her  own  business  so  well  as  to 
ensnare  the  rising  doctor,  and  having  caught,  to  cling 
to  her  prey.  It  was  thus  Margaret  Gibbs  had 
thought  of  the  transaction,  the  preliminary  stages 
of  which  had  passed  beneath  her  eyes.  After  one 
determined  effort  to  outwit  the  ensnarer  and  save 
Claude,  she  gave  in  to  superior  guile,  and  accepted 
the  inevitable,  to  all  appearance,  easily.  She  at- 
tended the  wedding  with  little  Maud,  witnessed 
Claude's  evident  infatuation  with  a  sisterly  smile, 
and  performed  fastidiously,  to  the  end  of  her  life, 
her  own  part  of  the  social  exchange  with  the  wealthier 
house  in  Harley  Street.  She  never  consciously  let 
slip  an  ill-natured  word  on.  the  subject,  above  all  in 
the  presence  of  the  children;  yet,  as  has  been  indi- 


GLASSWELL  21 

cated,  something  of  the  dryness  of  her  private  j  udg- 
ment  had  passed  to  her  elder  daughter.  Margery, 
gayer  by  temperament,  and  seven  years  younger,  had 
shaken  herself  free  of  the  grudge  a  little.  Margery 
was  her  father's  girl,  and  had  absorbed  a  measure 
of  his  tolerant  admiration  for  Eveleen,  as  for  some 
exotic  bird  of  brilliant  plumage  that  had  settled  at 
the  limits  of  the  Rectory  garden,  and  which  it 
pleased  the  Rector's  simple  heart  to  watch  from 
time  to  time. 

Eveleen  "  knew  her  business,"  Mr.  Gibbs  ex- 
plained, though  he  did  not  define  exactly  what  that 
business  was.  The  independent  celebrity  to  which 
she  attained,  parallel  with  Claude's,  as  it  were,  and 
as  though  competing  with  him,  amused  the  Rector 
persistently  to  contemplate.  His  occasional  man- 
ner of  reading  aloud,  at  the  rectorial  breakfast- 
table,  scraps  of  society  gossip  in  the  papers  that 
referred  to  her,  was  slightly  shocking  to  earnest- 
minded  visitors,  and  decidedly  puzzling  to  the 
strong-minded  lady  who  now  sat  at  the  head  of 
his  board. 

"  Can't  you  see  her*? "  Mr.  Gibbs  would  say, 
looking  about  him  for  sympathy,  having  extracted 
something  quite  unnecessarily  frivolous  about  Mrs. 
Claude  Ashwin,  in  a  setting  of  mauve  orchids  and 
diamonds,  for  the  delectation  of  his  family.  "  The 
diamonds   were    real,    too;   few   but   gene-wine, — 


22  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

weren't  they?  "    And  Margery  would  laugh  and  up- 
hold him  amid  the  general  disapproval. 

It  was  an  attitude  his  first  wife  had  encouraged; 
he  and  Margaret  had  long  since  agreed,  for  want  of 
better  opportunity,  to  treat  the  Ashwin  menage  in 
this  charitably  rallying  vein.  Claude  himself  was 
far  too  good  a  man,  and  too  old  a  friend,  to  be 
ignored  or  condemned,  still  less  sentimentally  com- 
passionated. At  the  moment  of  mating  he  had 
chosen  strangely,  but  there  was  a  strange  element 
in  his  composition,  as  there  had  been  in  his  sister's, 
and  none  admitted  the  fact  more  freely  than  Mr. 
Gibbs.  Mr.  Gibbs  judged  men  by  their  records;  and 
Claude  Ashwin's  record,  daring  and  dazzling  as  were 
the  attainments  scored, —  "  indecently  successful," 
as  Margaret  had  said  of  him, —  included  a  solid  basis 
of  serviceable  work.  Beneath  the  man  of  fashion  and 
the  scientist  he  was  conscientious  and  generous,  just 
as  Margaret  had  been;  and  the  Rector,  having 
marked  down  these  essential  qualities,  excused  his 
restlessness,  overlooked  his  somewhat  erratic  scintil- 
lations in  dialogue,  and  allowed  him  as  many  con- 
tradictory poses  as  he  cared  to  assume.  The  Rector 
had  loved  his  Margaret  earnestly,  and  learnt  her 
carefully,  and  by  the  time  of  her  death  he  had  got 
far  enough  in  the  study  to  comprehend  many  things 
in  her  brother  also,  which  he  could  not  naturally 
have  comprehended.     Her  death,  indeed,  had  left 


GLASSWELL  23 

him  curious,   and  he  would  gladly  have  pursued 

Claude's  acquaintance,  if  only  to  satiate  the  curiosity, 
had  fate  and  their  respective  lives  —  and  wives  — 
allowed  it.  But  there  lay  the  difficulty,  a  natural 
barrier,  which  his  simplicity  never  overstepped. 

Eveleen,  since  the  day  of  her  marriage,  never  sent 
a  glance  of  encouragement  in  the  direction  of 
Claude's  sister's  family.  She  had  not  stirred  a  finger 
to  bridge  the  gap  across  which  Margaret's  skilled 
acting,  and  tireless  activity,  had  thrown  so  many 
tentative  communications.  At  her  sister-in-law's 
death,  urged  in  part,  no  doubt,  by  immediate 
jealousy  of  Claude's  overmastering  grief,  she  had 
kicked  the  last  strand  of  intimacy  with  the  Gibbses, 
as  it  were,  away:  refused  to  attend  the  funeral,  and 
neglected  even  the  decent  garb  of  sympathy  she 
might  have  assumed  by  writing  to  the  girls.  Her 
behaviour  marked  a  definite  attitude,  in  short, 
which  she  had  never  been  at  the  pains  to  mark 
before;  and  Mr.  Gibbs,  who  had  known  something 
of  her  in  life,  and  yet  more  of  her  through  Margaret, 
acquiesced  in  it,  though  for  the  sake  of  her  husband 
and  daughter,  regretfully. 

Mr.  Gibbs  for  his  part  had  re-married,  after  some 
seven  years,  deliberately  and  without  a  scruple. 
Margaret  had  told  him  to  do  so,  and  he  generally 
took  Margaret's  advice  in  the  end:  but  it  was  some 


24  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

time  before  he  found  the  woman  with  whom  he  could 
associate  comfortably,  after  her.  In  the  interval,  he 
moved  out  of  town  into  the  country,  where  a  fat 
living  was  offered  him,  which  he  accepted  for  his 
children's  sake.  He  much  preferred  the  city  work 
himself,  but  he  was  informed  by  Maud  that  he  was 
growing  too  old  for  it,  and,  shaking  his  head  sadly, 
he  submitted.  Cheered  by  Margery  on  the  way 
down  to  Glasswell,  he  began  to  have  an  idea  that 
the  country  might  prove  interesting,  and  so  it  did. 
He  discovered  deep  within  himself  a  gardener  and 
a  farmer,  and  while  he  pottered  among  his  pigs  and 
his  peas,  he  began  to  wonder  why  Margaret,  with  all 
her  psychological  penetration,  had  never  planted  him 
in  the  country  before.  Within  a  year  of  settling  in 
Glasswell  he  found  himself  so  happy  that  he  became 
ashamed:  and  rising  up,  he  looked  about  him  for 
stimulating  obligations. 

As  soon  as  he  looked,  he  discovered  he  was  a 
parent,  and  obligations  swarmed  upon  him.  Maud 
and  Margery,  those  charming  and  sensible  com- 
panions, were  grown  girls  and  of  an  age  to  marry: 
and  he  was  selfishly  detaining  them  at  his  side. 
From  the  moment  he  began  to  envisage  them  as 
young  women,  he  made  discoveries  like  thunder- 
claps. Out  of  his  own  company,  they  were  shy  with 
men;  they  saw  nobody  for  months  together  but  one 
another, —  they  were  prim  even   with  the  curate. 


GLASSWELL  25 

They  refused  invitations  on  the  plea  that  they  were 
too  busy, —  too  busy  with  his,  Arthur  Gibbs'  work  I 
Maud  was  concealing  housewife's  worries,  and  look- 
ing worn  beneath  the  eyes.  Margery,  returned  from 
boarding-school,  was  settling  in  a  dreadful  content- 
ment to  her  painting  of  the  village  children,  and 
the  care  of  fowls, —  a  healthy,  clever  girl  who  might 
be  at  college,  breaking  the  soft  hearts  of  her  unwary 
tutors,  just  as  Margaret  Ashwin  had  long  since 
broken  the  Rector's.  It  was  all  as  bad  as  it  could 
be, —  terrible.  Such  a  state  of  things  must  be  most 
summarily  changed. 

So  the  Rector,  who  was  popular  with  all  his 
women  parishioners,  past  and  present,  went  to  town 
to  call  on  a  former  one,  Mrs.  Shovell,  whom  he  had 
known  in  his  first  parish.  She  was  a  woman  of  good 
provincial  family  herself,  the  relict  of  a  younger  son, 
who  had  been  through  rather  ghastly  misfortunes  as 
a  young  married  woman,  and  whom  Margaret  had 
subsequently  seconded  in  a  vigorous  struggle  for 
her  livelihood,  and  the  health  of  a  young  child. 
Having  seen  her  feet  safely  on  the  road,  the  busy 
clerical  pair  had  lost  her,  and  it  was  by  a  chance  that 
Mr.  Gibbs  had  re-discovered  her,  established  and 
prosperous,  as  the  head  of  a  hostel  for  girls  in  a  good 
quarter  of  the  town.  Mrs.  Shovell  had  speculated 
astutely  on  a  tendency  she  had  marked,  the  rising 
flood  of  independent  young  womanhood;  and  being 


26  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

well-bred  and  most  painfully  experienced,  was  able 
to  advise  them.  She  had  useful  connections,  and 
made  herself  a  good  position.  She  sent  her  boy  to 
school  and  college  in  triumph,  and  travelled  with 
him  in  the  holidays.  She  and  her  benefactor  Mr. 
Gibbs  met  again  on  the  warm  terms  of  mutual  con- 
gratulation. They  revived  pleasant  memories  of 
Margaret  and  the  little  girls,  settled,  since  Mrs. 
Shovell  would  have  it  so,  a  very  ancient  debt,  and 
could  look  calmly,  from  much  the  same  standpoint 
of  dearly-won  experience,  upon  life's  present  com- 
plications. It  was  one  easy  slide,  for  the  Rector's 
optimistic  nature,  from  these  terms  to  matrimony. 
The  understanding  was  frank:  it  was  simply  an 
alliance  of  friendly  forces  for  mutual  good,  and  was 
regarded  by  both  sides  as  such ;  and  the  younger  gen- 
eration was  happily  in  each  case  of  such  amiable 
temper,  that  the  clash  was  less  than  is  apt  to  be  fore- 
told by  the  more  suspicious  critics  of  such  unions. 
"  Mamma  is  quite  nice,"  Maud  wrote  quietly  to 
an  old  school-fellow,  "  and  has  not  upset  more  than 
you  would  expect  in  a  house  like  this.  Of  course,  we 
see  much  less  of  Papa  than  we  did.  .  .  .  Mar- 
gery is  to  go  to  Cambridge  in  the  autumn,  and 
Mamma  has  let  me  be  what  I  have  long  wanted  to 
become,  a  proper  accountant  to  Papa  for  the  farm. 
I  have  been  certain  for  ages  that  we  were  wasting 
money,  and  Mamma  agrees  with  me,  and  has  made 


GLASSWELL  27 

him  see  reason.     I  am  thankful  to  be  really  useful 
to  him  in  a  way  I  like  at  last." 

"  Charlie  is  the  funniest  dear,"  announced  Mar- 
gery the  artist  to  an  enquiring  comrade  of  the  brush, 
"  with  blue,  sleepy-looking  eyes,  and  a  haycock  of 
hair,  and  an  absolutely  perfect  nose  like  a  Gains- 
borough portrait.  When  he  attends  at  all  to  what 
you  say  he  looks  surprised.  He  does  not  mind  being 
drawn  the  least,  so  long  as  he  can  smoke.  I  never 
tried  a  man  before,  and  it  is  thrilling.  He  seems 
quite  to  have  taken  to  Papa,  and  tells  us  remarkable 
things  about  Cambridge  after  dinner,  which  cannot 
all  be  true.  .  .  .  Things  are  certainly  more 
lively  at  Glasswell  since  they  came." 

"  There  are  two  girls  here,"  Charles  warned 
Robert  Brading,  a  Cambridge  friend  he  asked  to 
tennis.  "  They  seem  rather  diffident  creatures,  but 
they  enjoy  tobacco :  and  though  they  laugh  too  much, 
they  have  stopped  following  me  about.  They  both 
begin  with  M,  the  tall  one  finishing  -argery,  and  the 
short  one  -aud.  Owing  to  the  respective  length  of 
their  bodies,  I  find  it  easy  to  remember.  Their  father 
is  a  soul-saver  of  the  genial  kind,  a  very  grand  old 
buffer ;  and  he  has  lately  been  married  by  my  mother 
for  his  good." 

These  naive  confessions  best  prove  the  fact  that, 
where  many  such  artificially  constructed  households 
creak,  that  at  Glasswell  produced  a  harmony  not  un- 


28  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

pleasing  to  the  ear;  but  how  much  of  this  happy  ac- 
cord of  chance  materials  was  owing  to  the  Rector 
himself, —  since  nobody  on  the  spot  discovered  —  we 
must  leave  the  Rector's  critics  at  their  own  leisure  to 
decide. 


HPi 


Ill 

THE   RECTOR 

It  had  not  occurred  to  the  new  Mrs.  Gibbs  that  her 
one  weak  spot,  her  intense  though  contained  anxiety 
about  Charles,  would  make  her  more,  not  less,  open 
to  the  sympathy  of  the  "  maidens,"  as  the  Rector 
called  his  girls.  As  a  fact,  the  natural  maternal 
weakness  appealed,  at  least  to  Maud,  more  than 
all  the  strong  armament  of  her  virtues.  And  when 
she  now,  on  Charles'  departure  from  the  drawing- 
room,  betrayed  her  dread  of  his  being  thought,  by 
the  casual  visitor,  half-witted,  Maud  roused  with 
promptitude  to  his  defense,  and  her  support. 

"  Nobody  really  minds,"  said  Maud.  "  Perhaps 
it's  only  the  Cambridge  way  to  talk  like  that." 

"  Oh,  I  acquit  Cambridge,"  said  Mrs.  Gibbs. 

"  He  was  reading  his  German  book  this  morning," 
said  Maud,  "  though  he  did  not  want  me  to  see.  I 
expect,"  she  proceeded,  gathering  courage,  "  that 
now  Violet  has  determined  to  adopt  a  career,  Charlie 
will  also  discover  the  necessity." 

"  Humph,"  said  Mrs.  Gibbs.    She  laid  down  her 


30  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

knitting,  and  thought  it  out.  "  Then,  as  his  mother,'* 
she  said,  "  I  may  trust,  my  dear,  either  that  Violet's 
somewhat  visionary  influence  may  fail  altogether, 
or  that,  when  the  moment  comes  for  her  to  go  off 
at  a  tangent,  Charles  may  not  go  off  at  a  tangent  in 
imitation." 

"  Wait  till  you  see  her,"  said  Maud,  with  perfect 
good  temper.  "  You  will  not  be  surprised  at  Charlie, 
any  more  than  we  are,  really." 

"  You  forget  I  have  seen  your  cousin,"  said  Mrs. 
Gibbs.     "  I  was  with  Charles  when  they  met." 

"  At  Bletchley,  on  the  bridged  "  Maud  enquired. 
"  Or  by  moonlight,  near  the  Backs'?  " 

"  Both  occasions,  presumably,"  said  Mrs.  Gibbs. 
"  That  is,  I  was  present  officially  at  all  the  picnics 
in  which  Charles  took  part  that  week;  though  I 
daresay  I  did  not  distinguish  one  girl  from  another. 
But  at  the  station  I  absolutely  spoke  to  her.  We 
were  thrown  against  her  as  we  crossed  the  line.  She 
had  got  separated  from  her  party,  and  seemed  to  be 
either  ignorant  or  indifferent  about  her  train.  We 
happened  to  be  in  a  hurry  to  catch  ours,  so  I  did 
not  stay  long." 

"  Who  was  with  her^  "  said  Maud. 

"  Her  mother,  whom  she  pointed  out  to  Charles, 
was  engaged  in  a  tete-a-tete  below  us." 

"  Oh, —  was  Uncle  Claude  there,  then*?  " 

"  No,  my  dear, —  another  gentleman.    I  really  for- 


GLASSWELL  31 

get  what  name  your  cousin  mentioned,  but  it  had  a 
handle  to  it." 

"  Then,"  said  Maud,  with  decision,  "  Violet  had 
not  got  separated.  She  was  hovering  on  the  bridge 
out  of  delicacy.  " 

"  Possibly,"  said  Mrs.  Gibbs,  and  seized  her  knit- 
ting again.  "  Disgraceful,  a  girl  of  that  age,"  she 
muttered.  "  No  wonder  she  flirts  herself,  when  she 
gets  an  opportunity." 

"Oh,  Mammal"  cried  Maud.  "Violet  flirt! 
What  a  good  thing  Charlie  did  not  hear  you  I  " 

"  You  mean  to  say "  said  Mrs.  Gibbs,  but 

stopped  as  a  large  form  darkened  the  drawing-room 
window.  "  Oh,  what  a  pity,  Arthur,"  she  changed 
the  issue,  "  Lois  Lennox  has  been  here  for  nearly  two 
hours,  hoping  to  see  you.  She  had  to  be  back  by 
half-past  six." 

"  Really?  "  said  the  Rector.  "  I  say,  how's  that?  " 
He  extended  a  particularly  fine  pea-pod,  slightly 
ragged  at  one  edge.  "  The  hawfinches  again,  hey? 
I  shall  have  to  get  a  gun." 

"  No,  you  won't,  Papa,"  said  Maud.  "  The  haw- 
finches know  you." 

"  Lois  is  in  trouble,"  said  Mrs.  Gibbs. 

"Hey?"  said  the  Rector,  laying  down  the  pea- 
pod.  The  lines  of  his  cheerful  face  changed  slightly, 
but  the  second  expression  was  quite  as  attractive  as 
the  first.     "  I  thought  she  was  out  of  the  wood." 


32  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

"  She's  lost  clients  since  that  selfish  woman  went," 
his  wife  explained.  "  She  must  have  someone  to 
join  her,  that's  a  fact.    She  wants  capital." 

"  Everybody  wants  capital,"  said  Mr.  Gibbs,  and 
his  eyes  fell  wistfully  on  the  pea-pod  an  instant. 

"  Imagine,"  said  Mrs.  Gibbs.  "  Lois  made  the 
partner's  whole  trousseau  for  nothing,  and  only  a 
girl  to  help.  Something  like  fifty  pounds'  worth, 
probably,  m  trimmings  and  trouble.  I  cannot  see 
why  simply  getting  married  should  make  people  so 
inconsiderate.  Lois  loses  enough  by  her  going  with- 
out that.     A  bride  of  thirty,  too." 

"  It  excites  them  more,  at  thirty,"  suggested  the 
Rector.     "  A  greater  upset  to  the  mind." 

"  Well,"  said  Mrs.  Gibbs,  "  I  was  married  at 
twenty-one,  and  again  at  forty-five,  and  I  believe  I 
kept  my  senses  the  second  time  as  well  as  the  first." 

"  Indubitably,"  said  the  Rector.  As  she  did  not 
look  up,  he  winked  at  Maud,  for  he  liked  to  share  a 
joke.  However,  Miss  Lennox's  affairs  had  taken  pos- 
session of  his  mind,  and  he  began  to  turn  them  over. 

"What  about  Maud?"  he  said  suddenly. 
"  She  would  be  handy  with  linings  and  things;  and 
Miss  Lennox  is  nice  company.  Besides  —  young 
women  —  London  town "  He  looked  hope- 
fully at  Maud.  She  had  assured  him  fifty  times 
that  she  detested  London  visits,  but  he  never  could 
digest  the  unsuitable  fact. 


GLASSWELL  33 

"  And  my  capital,  Papa?  "  was  all  she  said. 

"  Oh,"  said  the  Rector.  "  Well,  we  might  man- 
age something."  He  scratched  his  jaw  and  looked 
at  the  pea-pod. 

"  Extra  large  peas,"  mocked  Maud.  "  Warranted 
Church  of  England,  a  penny  each," 

"  Peas  with  a  taste  of  q's  in  them,"  said  the  Rector. 
"  No,  it  won't  quite  do.  She  has  advertised,  Hen- 
rietta, I  suppose'?  " 

"  She  does  not  want  to  advertise.  She  particu- 
larly wants  a  lady,  a  person  of  decided  character, 
she  said,  and  yet  rather  more  sympathetic  than  Miss 
Moffat  used  to  be,  not  too  old  or  ugly,  with  original 
ideas  and  an  eye  for  colour, —  and  psychological 
insight  above  all." 

"Good  gracious  I"  said  the  Rector,  impressed. 
"  Is  that  necessary?  " 

"  Quite  necessary,"  said  Maud.  "  Miss  Lennox 
explained  that  so  many  of  her  clients  live  at  Kensing- 
ton and  Chelsea,  and  that  though  they  are  interest- 
ing, you  have  to  adapt  yourself." 

"  Do  you?  Then  what  about  the  decision  of 
character?  " 

"  They  often  have  not  the  least  idea  what  they 
really  want,"  said  Maud. 

"Humph!  And  money  into  the  bargain."  The 
Rector  pondered.  "  I  begin  to  think,  ladies,  the 
paragon  will  be  harder  to  find." 


34  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

"  We  thought  of  Violet,"  said  his  wife,  after  a 
pause. 

Mr.  Gibbs'  face  changed,  lengthened,  and  then 
relaxed  completely. 

"Violet*?  Ha,  ha  I  Violet  and  Miss  Lennox!  " 
He  swung  towards  Maud.  "  Which  of  you  maidens 
thought  of  that^  " 

"Why  not  as  much  as  me  and  Miss  Lennox  V  " 
said  Maud,  demurely.    "  She  is  such  nice  company." 

"  No,  but  really  I  "  protested  the  Rector.  "  Violet 
among  the  Chelsea  blue  dragons, —  fagging  for  them, 

—  pinning  up  their  tails  I     Claude  would  never  see 
it,  you  know.  Your  uncle  would  never  see  it,  Maud." 

"  She  wants  to  be  useful,"  said  Mrs.  Gibbs.  "  I 
understood." 

"  Gracefully  useful,"  said  the  Rector,  gesticulat- 
ing, "  gracefully.    Claude's  an  exquisite,  you  know, 

—  was  so  long  before  the  duchesses  got  hold  of  him. 
And  Eveleen  —  oh,  ye  little  fishes  I    Think  of  her  I  " 

"  I  do,"  said  Mrs.  Gibbs,  with  emphasis.  "  I  should 
not  wonder  if  the  child  was  better  out  of  the  house, 
for  her  own  sake.  I  was  saying  so  to  Maud.  Lois, 
say  what  you  like,  Arthur,  is  a  thorough  lady,  and 
an  able  woman  as  well." 

"  To  be  sure,"  said  Mr.  Gibbs,  turning  grave. 
"Oh,  to  be  sure."  But  his  eyes  still  dwelt  on  the 
fancy  picture  of  Eveleen,  wistfully.  "  Miss  Lennox 
is  a  fine  creature, —  charitable  too.    She  is  capable  of 


GLASSWELL  35 

charity.  She  took  in  that  girl  whose  mother  drank  — 
Alice  something-or-other;  apprenticed  her  on  spec, 
don't  you  remember"?  " 

He  appealed,  in  absence  of  mind,  to  Mrs.  Gibbs. 
Then,  recollecting  that  she  had  nothing  to  do  with 
his  former  parish  on  the  Surrey  side,  diverted  his 
eyes  to  Maud,  who  nodded. 

"  A  handsome  creature,"  he  added  gravely.  "  We 
had  a  lot  of  trouble  to  get  her  placed.  The  big 
shops,  you  know, —  common  show-rooms, —  you 
don't  like  sending  a  pretty  maiden  there." 

"  Lois  mentioned  an  apprentice,"  said  Mrs.  Gibbs, 
who  had  ceased  her  knitting,  a  sign  of  interest.  "  I 
did  not  know  she  was  handsome,  or  that  her  mother 
drank.    Not  that  it  matters  at  all." 

"  It  would,"  said  the  Rector.  "  It  would,  don't 
you  see,  to  Claude.  Violet  and  a  girl  like  that  —  it 
couldn't  do."    His  eyes  appealed  to  each  in  turn. 

"  I  never  knew  anyone  so  conventional  as  you. 
Papa,"  said  Maud  impatiently.  "  As  I  am  con- 
stantly telling  you,  you  have  a  completely  wrong  idea 
of  Violet;  and  I  shouldn't  wonder  if  you  are  just  as 
hard  on  Uncle  Claude.  He  must  be  a  broad-minded 
person,  really." 

"  Oh,  well,"  said  the  Rector,  abandoning  argu- 
ment, "  talk  to  him  on  Sunday.  He'll  bring  the  girls 
down  by  one-thirty,  he  says;  but  we  are  not  to  wait 
lunch  more  than  ten  minutes,  because  he  might  be 
delayed  twelve  at  the  other  end." 


36  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

"  How  elaborate,"  said  his  daughter,  "  and  how 
like  Uncle  Claude.  I  hope  he  won't  be  so  busy 
counting  minutes,  he'll  forget  Violet." 

"  He  meant  Violet  would  delay  him,"  said  Mr. 
Gibbs.  "  Violet's  six  veils,  he  said.  That's  for 
motoring,  eh'?  " 

"What  a  shame  of  him  I  "  said  Maud  warmly. 
"  Margery  is  more  likely  to  keep  him  waiting.  Violet 
is  as  precise  as  he  is,  every  bit." 

"  He's  not  the  least  precise  by  nature,"  said  the 
Rector,  musing.  "  Nor  was  she.  Lazy  and  luxu- 
rious young  dogs,  the  pair  of  them.  He  has  learnt  up 
all  his  clockwork  along  with  the  professional  patter 
—  that  is  why  he  is  so  keen  to  show  it  off.  Claude's 
really  quite  easy  to  see  through,  you  know.  She 
copies  him." 

"  Which  she  are  you  speaking  of  now?  "  said  Mrs. 
Gibbs.  Her  tone  was  dry,  but  her  aspect  was  be- 
nevolent, and  she  was  knitting  calmly  again.  After 
all,  she  had  known  Margaret  too,  and  no  one  could 
be  vexed  with  Arthur's  ineptitudes. 

"  Violet,  my  dear.  She  copies  her  Pa  in  every- 
thing.   Artificial  little  minx,  hey,  Maudie?" 

Maud  cast  him  a  double-edged  look  which  said 
she  understood  it  to  be  teasing,  and  disdained  to 
reply;  and  the  Rector,  leaving  Violet,  began  on  a 
subject  nearer  his  heart  —  the  new  gardener. 


IV 

CHARLES'  MEMORIES 

Charles,  meanwhile,  having  Violet's  note  in  his 
pocket,  with  its  promise  of  her  third  entrance  on  his 
life,  timed  for  Sunday  next  at  half -past  one  precisely, 
was  too  full  of  the  resulting  mixed  emotions  to 
remain  indoors,  still  less  to  fix  his  mind  on  so  un- 
gainly a  thing  as  German.  German,  according  to  his 
mother,  was  his  duty,  since  Charles  understood  from 
her  that  he  was  to  teach  it  in  the  time  to  come.  It 
is  impossible  to  cast  the  mind  forward  upon  a  pros- 
pect such  as  this,  especially  on  a  fine  evening,  in 
an  admirable  Kentish  garden  full  to  the  brim  of 
early  summer  fragrances,  with  a  new  gardener  some- 
where in  the  middle  distance  requiring  careful  ob- 
servation at  intervals.  Charles  preferred  to  cast  it 
backward,  and,  while  he  fumbled  with  the  letter- 
sheets,  for  he  had  abstracted  Margery's  reports  as 
well,  to  con  over  in  mind  the  valuable  links  which 
knit  the  chain,  now  nearly  perfect,  of  his  connection 
with  Miss  Ashwin. 

The  first  meeting  had  occurred  at  a  picnic,  a  com- 
monplace vacation  affair  at  Cambridge,  long-drawn- 


38  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

out.  Violet  had  not  materialized  for  Charles  till 
the  close  of  the  day,  though  she  had  been  present,  she 
assured  him  later,  all  the  time.  His  mother,  who 
considered  herself  in  charge  of  the  young  party,  had 
been  perfectly  intolerable,  fagging  Charles  unmerci- 
fully as  was  her  wont,  leaving  him  really  no  instant 
of  leisure  to  enjoy  himself  in  his  own  way.  Mrs. 
Shovell  had  had,  moreover,  mirthless  jests  at  his 
expense  with  the  other  chaperon :  taunting  him  —  as 
he  considered  —  with  his  recent  failure  in  an  exam- 
ination, perfectly  natural  if  properly  understood. 
Charles  was  so  used  to  her  misjudging  him  that,  if 
she  had  not  twitted  him  in  the  presence  of  girls,  he 
could  have  borne  it.  As  things  were,  he  ignored  her 
at  first,  then  sulked,  and  finally  withdrew  to  the  mar- 
gin of  the  stream,  and  fell  into  a  melancholy  ab- 
straction, nicely  suited  to  the  twilight  hour. 

Now,  for  the  first  time,  his  eye  fell  on  Miss  Ash- 
win,  who  seemed  absent  too.  She  was  a  mere  child, 
in  Charles'  condescending  eyes,  with  waves  of  dark 
hair  tied  back  in  a  large  bow.  She  was  considered 
evidently  as  too  young  for  an}'one  to  notice  much, 
but  Charles,  having  leisure  to  observe,  found  her 
face  worth  attention.  He  listened,  and  every  time 
she  spoke  she  said  pretty  unexpected  things.  Now 
this,  at  a  river  picnic,  is  exceptional.  Miss  Ashwin 
packed  all  the  picnic  hampers  so  well  and  featly  that 
the  matrons  retired  in  her  favour,   and  began  to 


GLASSWELL  39 

discuss  their  respective  districts,  seated  on  the  bank. 
Charles,  recovering  rapidly  from  his  sulks,  and  reclin- 
ing among  the  ruins  of  the  feast,  was  shown  how  to 
wind  the  handles  of  the  cups  in  hay. 

He  did  it  clumsily  himself,  but  he  was  quite  con- 
tent to  watch  her  little  fingers  at  the  game.  He  dis- 
covered at  leisure  she  was  pretty,  and  in  a  fashion 
only  the  elect  would  admire.  He,  Charles,  was  the 
elect.  On  the  return  journey,  he  let  the  large  punts 
start,  and  with  the  help  of  Robert  Brading,  a  useful 
friend,  he  detached  Miss  Ashwin,  and  enticed  her 
into  a  fleet  canoe.  After  the  necessary  dodgings  and 
diplomacy,  the  party  moved  away,  the  moon  came 
up,  and  there  began,  for  Charles,  an  entrancing 
evening. 

They  exchanged  notes  on  nature  and  art,  punc- 
tuated by  long  significant  silences.  Charles  could 
not  make  out  if  she  was  disdainfully  aloof,  or  tired, 
or  simply  demure.  She  spoke  little,  really,  though 
she  inspired  him  to  speak  much;  but  her  use  of 
words,  and  singular  aptitude  in  placing  them,  im- 
pressed him  even  then  at  intervals;  and  whole  sen- 
tences remained  strung,  as  he  discovered  later,  in 
memory.  It  was  this  completeness  in  her,  from  the 
first,  that  abashed  his  manly  superiority. 

They  came  to  confidence  by  degrees,  and  per- 
suaded themselves  rapidly  —  Charles  did,  that  is, — 
of  a  close  resemblance  in  their  situations.    They  were 


40  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

both  oppressed  and  overlooked  by  their  surround- 
ings. They  were  both  jarred  and  outraged  by  details 
in  daily  life  to  which  none  but  the  elect  gave  heed. 

"  Perhaps  we  expect  too  much,"  admitted  Charles. 
"  That  is  the  worst  of  standards."  Miss  Ashwin 
shrugged  a  little,  and  dabbled  a  hand  in  the  stream. 

"  Aren't  you  the  least  trifle  degoutee?  "  queried 
Charles,  with  a  bright  thought:  and  she  accepted  it 
with  a  smile.  Now,  there  was  not  a  single  other  girl 
on  that  picnic, —  and  Charles  had  tried  most  of 
them, —  who  would  have  passed  the  word,  or  failed 
to  interpret  it  as  "  disgusted  "  if  they  had!  It  was  a 
triumph  of  sympathetic  insight. 

Later,  when  the  moon  rose  higher,  the  pair  of 
degoutes  got  further  still.  Violet  was  little  over 
seventeen  then,  and  Charles  not  yet  escaped  from 
one-and-twenty,  so  that  excesses  under  the  summer 
moon  may  be  excused.  At  least  they  never  thought 
of  flirting,  their  range  was  far  above  that.  They 
spoke  openly,  Charles  especially,  each  assuring  the 
other  that  they  had  never  spoken  openly  before; 
which  in  Violet's  case  was  true,  and  in  Charles'  some- 
what exaggerated.  He  had  much  to  say  of  his  life, 
its  discoveries  and  disappointments ;  and  she,  reticent 
about  hers,  listened  sweetly.  Later  he  realised  that, 
being  a  girl  of  wealth  and  leisure,  she  could  hardly 
have  known  such  things. 

"  It  is  difficult  to  believe,"  said  Violet  vaguely, 


GLASSWELL  41 

dripping  water  through  her  fine  fingers,  "  that  some 
people  have  souls  at  all." 

"  My  mother  has  not,"  said  Charles.  "  She  is  one. 
A  good  soul,  don't  you  think'?  " 

The  girl  laughed  a  little,  but  said,  "  She  2S  good," 
—  thinking  of  the  vigorous  debate  upon  districts, 
probably. 

"  WTiat  about  yours?"  said  Charles,  wondering 
(since  they  had  never  been  introduced)  if  he  could 
venture  on  Violet's  name.    "  Is  she  a  good  soul  too"?  " 

Miss  Ashwin  drooped  her  lashes.  "  Mother  is  not 
good,"  she  murmured.  "  Not  even  good."  And 
breathless  silence  descended. 

"  It  is  strange,  isn't  it,"  said  Charles,  growing  rap- 
idly happier,  "  that  we  should  both  be  placed  like 
this."  They  agreed  it  was  strange.  Thus  forced  to 
criticise  their  mothers,  even  to  condemn,  they  were 
quite  cut  off  from  the  world,  and  the  flirting  portion 
of  it  in  the  now  distant  punts.  Obviously,  every- 
body else  in  the  world  either  owned  an  ordinary 
mother,  or  else  had  lost  her  decently.  They  were 
unique;  and  fate,  or  rather  Charles'  diplomacy,  had 
thrown  them  together  to  discover  it.  Their  friend- 
ship,—  it  was  friendship, —  had  a  foundation  out 
of  the  world,  behind  time.  A  nebulous  bond  united 
them,  a  bond  which,  being  nebulous,  neither  had  the 
temerity,  nor  the  ill-taste,  to  define.  They  were  ridic- 
ulous young  people. 


42  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

"  Of  course,  if  I  see  much  of  you,"  said  Charles, 
hunting  his  vision  more  ardently  as  the  necessary 
parting  approached,  "Mother, —  being  Mother, — 
will  think  we  want  to  be  engaged." 

Violet  looked  at  him  with  large  grey  eyes.  "  Is  she 
like  that?  "  she  said. 

*'  She  thinks  I  am  like  that,"  Charles  explained. 
"  She  has  always  mistaken  my  character.  Tou^  no- 
body could  mistake,  of  course."  He  looked  at  her 
face,  pallid  in  the  moonlight,  reverentially. 

"  I  should  very  much  like  a  friend,"  Miss  Ashwin 
said  in  her  gracious,  rather  mechanical  tone.  "  But 
you  had  far  better  forget  about  me,  Mr.  Shovell.  I 
really  don't  signify." 

"  You  are  the  only  person  I  ever  met  who  signified 
supremely,"  he  returned.  "  I  think  you  are  the  best 
naturally, —  and  I  can  only  try  to  be." 

He  thought  of  saying  "strive,"  and  then  abandoned 
it  as  a  bookish  word.  It  was  only  this  girl  who  could 
talk  bookishly  without  seeming  the  least  ridiculous. 
His  last  speech  was  a  confession  that  he  felt  her 
sincerity,  where  other  girls  would  have  been  aping 
stagily.  For  himself,  he  could  only  endeavour  not 
to  clash  with  the  clear  queer  impression  she  made. 

She  gave  him  her  little  fingers  at  parting, —  river- 
cool, —  and  said :  "  I  am  afraid  we  shall  not  meet 
again."    The  still  tragedy  of  her  tone,  and  the  in- 


GLASSWELL  43 

tensity  of  her  grey  eyes  through  the  dusk,  thrilled 
Charles. 

"  Don't  you  appear  by  day?  "  he  asked. 

"  Oh  I  "  said  Violet,  with  a  breath  of  disdain.  "  It 
is  only  —  Mother  and  I  go  on  to-morrow." 

"  But  so  do  we  I  "  cried  Charles.  However,  there 
coincidence  failed.  They  were  not  going  to  the  same 
place,  though  both  resided  in  London.  Violet  was 
visiting,  flitting  from  friend  to  friend.  Charles  was 
taking  his  mother  to  the  sea.  So  they  had  a  parting, 
perfect  in  every  detail,  and  delightful  in  recollec- 
tion :  and  then,  owing  to  the  intricacies  of  the  English 
railway  system,  met  the  next  day  at  Bletchley  Junc- 
tion. 

As  Charles  had  indicated  to  Miss  Lennox,  Violet's 
atmosphere  had  triumphed  over  Bletchley.  She  had 
been  exquisitely  remote  on  the  bridge,  bewilderingly 
sad  and  lonely,  and  Mrs.  Shovell,  when  they  pro- 
ceeded, had  called  her  a  queer  little  thing.  But 
Charles,  brilliantly  inspired  to  be  practical,  had 
taken  a  short  excursion  round  the  piles  of  Mrs.  Ash- 
win's  luggage ;  and  when  he  returned,  had  the  Harley 
Street  number  safe  in  the  innermost  sanctuary  of  his 
pocketbook. 

This  precaution,  admirably  managed  as  it  was, 
proved  fruitless,  for  Violet  was  the  first  to  write.  Her 


44  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

behaviour  in  doing  so  was  unassailable;  for  firstly, 
she  left  Charles  an  interval  of  some  seven  months 
in  which  to  speculate  upon  her,  tear  up  half-written 
sheets,  and  track  her  name  about  London:  the  last 
a  cat-and-mouse  game  that  pleased  him  peculiarly, 
owing  to  the  comparative  notoriety  of  her  name,  and 
the  extreme  elusiveness  of  her  person.  Even  when 
she  wrote,  she  was  urged  above  all  by  tact  and  pro- 
priety, for  the  Shovell-Gibbs  engagement  had  lately 
been  announced,  and  she  wrote  to  Charles  as  a  pro- 
spective cousin. 

The  letter  was  short  as  it  was  admirable,  in  an 
extremely  pretty  handwriting.  It  was  accompanied 
by  one  to  the  bride,  written  "  for  Mother,"  as  it 
appeared,  recalling  their  former  meeting  in  an  ac- 
customed manner  of  society,  regretting  that  Violet 
herself  could  not  be  present  at  the  wedding,  as  she 
was  going  to  Cannes, —  but  dear  Uncle  Arthur  was 
to  be  informed  that  she  had  told  Father  to  try. 

Father  had  tried,  and  succeeded,  turning  up  for 
twenty  minutes  at  Mrs.  Gibbs'  reception:  but 
Charles,  ignorant  of  his  identity  till  too  late,  had 
made  the  mistake  of  overlooking  him.  Violet's  notes, 
however,  mere  forms  as  they  were,  offered  him  food 
for  much  wondering  thought.  Only  a  very  original 
person,  he  decided  with  acumen,  could  afford  to  be  so 
correct.  Spurred  by  a  new  sense  of  intimacy,  and 
simultaneously  by  the  assurance  Miss  Ashwin  was 


GLASSWELL  45 

far,  Charles  sent  six  sheets,  scrawled  over  impul- 
sively, to  the  address  her  father  had  mentioned  at 
Cannes.  He  said  in  the  course  of  them  far  more  than 
he  had  intended  to  say,  and  spoke  about  himself 
exclusively. 

After  another  demure  interval,  came  another  ad- 
mirable note,  a  square  sheet  as  before,  written  over 
in  the  pretty  formed  hand,  and  stamped  with  an 
initial  in  the  corner.  Charles  sniffed  the  paper  at- 
tentively, but  it  had  no  smell.  It  was  different,  not 
only  in  this  but  other  respects,  from  the  kind  of  letter 
he  thought  girls  wrote,  on  the  evidence  of  friends  at 
Cambridge.  The  document,  oddly  enough,  offered 
little  news  of  the  writer,  and  was  largely  devoted  to 
the  praises  of  Margery,  whom  Charles,  in  his  devo- 
tion to  the  highest,  had  seen  fit  on  first  acquaintance 
to  decry.  But  this  was  evidently  not  the  way  to 
flatter  Violet. 

"  You  had  better  make  a  friend  of  Margery 
Gibbs,"  wrote  Violet.  "  You  must  be  firm, —  it  is 
only  to  conquer  her  shyness.  She  will  be  of  far  more 
use  to  you  than  I.  Personally,  I  am  changing  with 
this  life,  and  shall  not  long  respect  myself, —  how 
then  be  respected*?  You  had  better  forget  me,  as  I 
said."  Ending  on  this  characteristic  note  of  despera- 
tion, it  left  Charles  resolved  not  to  forget  her,  at 
least.  She  was,  under  the  circumstances,  far  too 
ready  to  suspect  him  of  infidelity.     She  evidently 


46  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

saw  him  slipping  already  from  their  airy  bargain  — 
and  slipping  in  Margery's  direction-  The  highest  art 
of  long-practised  coquetry  could  not  so  have  stirred 
Charles'  order  of  boyhood,  which  needed  before  all 
to  be  pathetic,  not  prosperous. 

He  wrote  back  in  a  hurry,  gathering  the  discarded 
clouds  of  tragedy  about  him  again,  proving  to  his 
own  satisfaction  how  lonely  he  was  amid  the  decep- 
tive joys  of  Glasswell,  how  useless  and  downtrodden 
by  the  world,  and  claiming  her  sympathy  anew  on 
the  common  ground  of  their  first  meeting. 

After  the  accustomed  pause,  she  replied  again, 
and  plainly  he  had  gained  a  step,  for  though  still 
studied  in  form,  the  matter  of  the  missive  approached 
to  confidence.  Yet  again,  for  all  its  confiding,  it  cast 
poor  Charles  to  a  great  distance :  for  it  consisted  of  a 
kind  of  intermittent  diary,  studded  with  the  names 
of  the  fashionable  party  Mrs.  Claude  Ashwin  hon- 
oured by  her  adherence :  figures  of  some  social  note, 
described  with  the  kind  of  childish  dryness, —  the 
potpourri  of  spring  flowers, —  that  was  Violet's  spe- 
cialty. Yet  there  were  indications,  not  only  in  the 
vivid  descriptive  passages,  of  her  energy  of  mind. 
She  was  studying  French  with  Madame  so-and-so, 
dressmaking  with  her  mother's  maid.  Monsieur  this 
had  explained  his  Oriental  collections  to  her,  or  Lieu- 
tenant that  the  mechanism  of  the  cruiser  in  the  bay. 
Charles  began  to  be  jealous  of  her  varied  interests. 


GLASSVVELL  47 

—  cranks,  as  his  mother  called  them ;  and  told  him- 
self bitterly  that  he  had  merely  had  a  share  of  that 
facile  feminine  sympathy,  pliant  to  all  comers,  but 
of  no  lasting  worth  to  any.  Having  thus  grumbled  in 
mind  through  the  greater  part  of  the  missive,  he  had 
to  grant  at  the  close  that  she  was  again  too  clever 
for  him;  for,  desperate  anew,  she  renounced  it  all, 
and  flung  the  webs  away. 

"  I  cannot  pass  another  winter  like  this.  I  have 
accomplished  it  for  Father,  but  it  is  too  exhausting. 
I  might  say,  I  am  giving  my  youth  away  by  handfuls, 
and  to  Mother,  who  has  no  need  for  it.  Mother  is 
greater  than  I,  for  she  has  no  doubts:  and  I  doubt 
myself  continually.  She  will  tell  Father  she  is  sat- 
isfied, I  hope,  and  that  will  acquit  me." 

Soon  after  that,  Violet  was  "  acquitted  "  appar- 
ently. That  is,  her  health  or  courage  failed,  and  Mrs. 
Ashwin  sent  her  home,  wrecked  with  the  effort  of 
being  all  things  to  all  men,  according  to  her  exquisite 
standard,  in  a  series  of  smart  hotels.  Mrs.  Gibbs, 
who  never  lost  a  chance  of  kindly  service,  instantly 
asked  her  down  to  Glasswell,  to  pass  the  time  till  her 
mother's  return,  and  for  the  benefit  of  the  country 
air.  Charles  spent  twenty-four  hours  in  restless 
anxiety,  for  he  found  himself  unaccountably  dread- 
ing the  girl's  actual  apparition ;  but  it  was  labour  of 
mind  quite  wasted,  for,  true  to  her  tradition,  his 
elusive  maiden  did  not  come.    Her  father  came  in  her 


48  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

place,  flying  down  in  his  motor  for  an  hour  of  the 
afternoon,  to  make  her  explanations  to  her  would-be- 
hostess.  Charles  attended  curiously  to  the  colloquy, 
concealed  behind  the  conservatory  door,  which 
opened  to  the  drawing-room.  Dr.  Ashwin,  in  a  tone 
oddly  like  Violet's,  produced  a  series  of  what  Mrs. 
Gibbs  called  ornamental  excuses,  beautifully  worded, 
but  offering  no  evidence  on  the  surface  of  their 
sincerity.  He  proceeded  to  propose,  under  orders 
from  Violet,  apparently,  to  carry  Margery  back  in 
his  car  to  town.  Margery,  overcome  by  timidity, 
and  the  suddenness  of  the  offer,  ventured  a  few 
excuses  on  her  side;  but  Dr.  Ashwin,  though  he 
talked  to  fill  up  time  to  Mr.  Gibbs,  seemed  to  be 
simply  waiting  for  her  to  fall  in  with  the  will  of  his 
invisible  princess. 

Charles,  amused  since  he  was  not  concerned,  at- 
tended to  Margery's  struggle  and  subsequent  col- 
lapse. At  its  last  stage,  her  uncle  was  heard  to  ob- 
serve sadly  that  it  was  friendly  of  her,  and  Margerj^ 
retired  abruptly  to  dress. 

"  It  is  only  till  my  wife  comes  home,"  said  Dr. 
Ashwin  to  Mrs.  Gibbs,  still  attentive  and  explana- 
tory. "  That  will  not  be  long  now,  I  understand. 
We  cannot  think  it  good  for  Violet  to  be  so  much 
alone." 

"  Has  she  no  friends^  "  said  Mrs.  Gibbs,  marvel- 
ling at  his  manner. 


GLASSWELL  49 

"  Few  girl  friends,  as  it  happens.  And  she  is  not 
yet  strictly  in  the  world,  though  Eveleen  let  her  see 
something  of  society  abroad.  Eveleen  hopes  to  bring 
her  out  next  spring,  and  to  present  her.  Meanwhile, 
she  is  on  our  hands, —  and  I  have  little  time.  I 
will  take  care  of  Miss  Margery,"  he  added  quickly, 
as  though  foreseeing  a  last  scruple. 

"  Extraordinary  creature,"  Mrs.  Gibbs  exclaimed, 
when  Margery,  wrapped  in  the  doctor's  costly  furs, 
had  vanished  into  the  night.  "  Why  cannot  he  be 
natural'?  Of  course,  the  fact  is,  the  woman  won't 
let  the  girl  grow  up.    She  is  putting  off  the  evil  day." 

"  I  should  not  wonder,"  said  the  Rector,  with  that 
odd  touch  of  complacency  he  always  showed  on  the 
subject  of  Eveleen.  "  Claude's  always  very  careful 
of  the  decorums,  though,"  he  added.  "  She  has  been 
bothering  him,  evidently,  the  scamp:  that  is  what 
makes  him  so  feverish." 

This  last  was  not  intended,  naturally,  for  his  step- 
son's ears,  and  indeed  it  hardly  reached  them,  for 
Charles  was  wrapt  in  thought.  Something  in  the 
dialogue  had  recalled  to  him  Violet's  last  letter,  in 
which  she  was  giving  her  youth  away  by  handfuls; 
and,  extreme  as  the  phrase  undoubtedly  was,  for  the 
first  time  the  possibly  genuine  pathos  of  the  girl's 
situation  flashed  through  by  its  means  to  his  more 
reasonable  mind. 


AMONG  THE  PEAS 

The  impression  did  not  last  long, 

Margery's  first  letter  to  her  sister,  kindly  shown 
to  Charles  by  Maud,  disposed  of  pathos,  and  once 
more  shook  his  whole  conception.  It  consisted  of  an 
enthusiastic  description  of  Violet's  wardrobe,  which, 
in  accordance  with  the  first  duty  of  a  hostess,  had 
been  laid  before  her  cousin's  eyes. 

This  letter,  if  interesting,  was  elaborate;  and 
Charles,  on  reaching  this  point  in  his  recollections, 
was  obliged  to  have  recourse  to  documentary  evi- 
dence. He  therefore  looked  about  him,  as  he  pa- 
trolled the  garden-paths,  for  a  haven  where  he  could 
study  the  documents,  so  carefully  preserved,  in  peace. 
A  haven  was  handy;  he  had  reached  on  his  wander- 
ings the  forest  of  garden-peas,  which  were  the  Rec- 
tor's pride  and  joy,  and  of  which  the  earlier  sorts,  at 
least,  were  already  of  a  sufficient  size  to  conceal  him. 
Amid  the  orderly  ranks  of  these,  convenient  to  his 
need,  he  discovered  a  wooden  stool,  probably  deserted 
by  the  gardener,  for  there  was  a  pail  half  full  of  pods 
beside  it.    Charles  sat  down  willingly  upon  the  stool, 


GLASSWELL  51 

and  in  his  cool  green  seclusion,  drew  the  crumpled 
letters  from  his  pocket. 

On  her  return  from,  the  South  and  arrival  in 
London,  it  seemed,  Violet  had  been  prescribed  for 
very  promptly  by  medical  authority  below  stairs: 
the  prescription  being  to  drive  with  Father  in  the 
park,  and  go  with  him  to  private  views  and  the  first 
nights  of  plays.  Violet  had  been  obliged  to  explain 
vtT}'  firmly  to  Father  that,  after  the  ravages  of  the 
Riviera  season,  she  had  no  clothes.  She  wished  dear 
Margery  to  support  her,  and  laid  the  evidence,  in 
trails  of  disordered  silk  and  muslin,  at  her  feet.  Then, 
perched  on  the  bed  and  clasping  her  knees,  she  looked 
at  Margery  with  piteous  eyes  across  the  wreck. 

"  Father  liked  her  to  be  nice,"  was  her  response  to 
all  Margery's  arguments.  She  would  give  the  whole 
of  that  for  one  nice  fresh  muslin,  like  that  Margery 
had  worn  for  dinner  the  first  evening.  Father  had 
been  simply  charmed  with  that. 

"  I  don't  believe  he  even  glanced  my  way,"  wrote 
reasonable  Margery.  "  It  is  only  Violet's  polite 
imagination.  But  I  mentioned  Miss  Lennox  had 
made  the  dress,  for  I  thought  one  might  as  well  do 
her  a  good  turn.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  it  was  not  Miss 
Lennox,  who  was  ill  at  the  time,  but  Miss  Lennox's 
Miss  Eccles,  the  one  whose  mother  drinks.  Papa  will 
remember  her.  I  never  quite  liked  that  girl,  she's  too 
managing;  but  she  certainly  cuts  well.     However,  I 


52  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

did  not  mention  her  to  Violet,  only  the  things  I 
thought  were  useful,  tell  Papa." 

The  results  of  Margery's  kind  thought  for  Miss 
Lennox  evidently  surprised  herself.  Violet  seized 
the  idea  of  helping  her,  and  helping  in  a  sense  which 
Margery  would  never  have  ventured  to  suggest,  and 
used  the  utmost  address  and  promptitude  to  push 
through  the  plans  she  made. 

"  She  seems  serious,  so  far  as  I  can  see,"  wrote 
Margery,  rather  disturbed  in  mind  about  the  matter. 
"  It  is  always  a  little  hard  to  know,  with  her  way  of 
putting  things.  Her  words  are  more  wonderful  than 
ever,  Maud,  this  time.  She  cannot,  she  says,  face 
another  winter  like  the  last.  She  will  not  absolutely 
refuse  to  be  presented,  for  she  is  terribly  loyal,  but 
she  says  she  would  stand  before  her  Sovereign's  eye 
with  greater  confidence  if  she  stood  in  the  work  of  her 
hands.  As  if  Aunt  Evie  would  ever  let  her !  She  is 
the  maddest  thing, —  but  just  as  nice  as  ever.  I  am 
really  having  the  most  wonderful  time,  and  being 
spoiled  disgustingly.  Violet  makes  me  tell  her  all 
sorts  of  things  I  ought  not,  about  Papa,  and  you,  and 
everyone.  I  have  no  intention  of  gossiping,  but  when 
she  looks  at  me  with  those  great  eyes,  I  do.  And 
what  I  leave  out  with  an  effort,  you  know,  she  fills 
up  in  her  own  words,  while  I  am  stammering.  I  had 
to  tell  her  all  about  the  business  in  the  end;  and  all 
about  Miss  Lennox's  trials  with  that  hateful  woman, 


I 


GLASSWELL  53 

and  so  on.  And  Violet  said  it  was  intensely  inter- 
esting,—  though  nobody  could  possibly  call  Miss 
Moffat  that, —  and  declared  she  was  going  to  speak 
to  Father  after  dinner, —  and  she  did." 

The  parental  interview  was  the  next  thing,  dra- 
matically given, 

"  Uncle  Claude  was  tired,  having  had  duchesses 
all  day.  He  terrifies  me,  especially  when  he  is 
polite,  but  Violet  takes  him  very  calmly.  She  began 
as  soon  as  the  man  had  taken  out  the  coffee.  '  Father 
dear,  are  you  very  tired? '  '  Not  the  least,'  said 
Uncle  Claude,  who  was  half  asleep.  '  Well,  have  you 
any  objection  to  my  being  a  dressmaker?  '  '  Oh,  not 
at  all, —  it  would  reduce  my  bills,'  said  Uncle 
Claude.  (Violet  and  he  always  sound  as  if  they  were 
rehearsing  for  theatricals,  when  they  talk.  Their 
voices  are  just  alike,  and  rather  sad.  It  is  killing  to 
listen  to  them.)  '  Eventually  I  trust  it  would,'  says 
Violet,  '  but  I  should  want  a  fairish  sum  of  money 
to  start  with.'  '  Do  needles  cost  so  much?  '  says 
Uncle  Claude.  *  No,'  says  Violet,  '  it  is  only  I  my- 
self happen  to  be  worth  rather  less  than  nothing.' 

"  W^ell,  that  startled  him  awake.  '  W^hat  next. 
Pussy? '  he  said.  I  ought  to  mention  she  was  in 
white  silk  and  moonstones,  looking  a  little  more  like 
Juliet  than  usual.  '  I  mean,  I  should  have  to  be  ap- 
prenticed,' says  Violet.  '  And  that  means,  somebody 
must  be  paid  to  have  patience  with  me.     Regard  it 


54  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

calmly,  Father,  if  you  can:  you  needn't  stop  smok- 
ing.' But  he  did,  and  fidgeted  into  the  bargain, 
looking  very  miserable.  At  last  he  did  just  what  I 
was  expecting,  he  said  — '  Is  this  Miss  Margery's 
idea"? '  and  turned  to  me.  '  Well,'  says  Violet, 
'  Margery  considers,  as  I  do,  that  it's  about  the  only 
thing  I  am  fit  for.  You  know  I  am  a  bungler,  don't 
you.  Father^  '  (She  had  been  playing  to  us  divinely, 
just  before.)  '  But  there  are  dozens  of  girls  in  Lon- 
don who  are  bunglers,  and  make  their  way  all  the 
same;  especially  if  their  Fathers  make  a  silver  path 
for  them.' 

"  He  looked  a  little  happier  at  that;  and  presently 
he  had  an  idea,  and  said,  suppose  she  consulted 
Mother  about  it.  '  I  will,  when  I  next  meet  her,' 
says  Violet,  as  calmly  as  possible.  '  Tuesday  or 
Wednesday,  that  will  be,  I  suppose.  Apropos,  if 
you  find  a  lady  called  Lennox  at  Glasswell  on  Sun- 
day   '   '  I  am  not  going  to  Glasswell  on  Sunday,' 

says  Uncle  Claude.  '  Oh  yes :  you  are  taking  poor 
Margery  down.  Wait  a  minute.'  She  took  the  en- 
gagement-book he  had  in  his  hand,  turned  the  leaves, 
and  actually  wrote  in  it  while  he  waited,  with  a 
little  pencil.  '  There,  that  is  readable,'  she  said. 
'  Now,  to  resume,  if  you  should  meet  this  Miss  Len- 
nox, don't  speak  to  her  in  your  clicking  tone,  or  in 
the  sleep-walking  one  that  Margery  minds  still  more ; 
but  just  ask  her  quietly  about  her  terms.     You  are 


GLASSWELL  55 

bound  to  approve  of  her,  because  Uncle  Arthur  does. 
Good  night,  Father  darling,  remember  that  I  count 
on  you.' 

"  Well,  he  let  her  kiss  him,  though  he  looked  a 
little  dazed;  and  then  he  remembered  me,  and  got 
up  on  springs, —  you  know  the  way.  He  does  look 
ridiculously  young,  Maud  I  He  was  probably  wrath- 
ful with  me  really,  but  he  only  seemed  polite  and 
anxious.  '  Kiss  Margery,'  said  the  little  wretch, 
making  me  absolutely  jump.  '  Then  hers  shall  kiss 
me  on  Sunday,  in  exchange.'  '  Then  you  are  coming 
down  with  us,  Pussy  ^  '  he  said,  turning  right  around 
when  he  had  obeyed  her.  '  Oh,'  says  Violet  from  the 
door,  '  one  is  expected  to  show  oneself  on  these  oc- 
casions, I  believe.'  '  Doesn't  one  also  require  a  char- 
acter'? '  says  Uncle  Claude.  '  I  have  one,'  says  Violet, 
'  from  Leontine.  Disappointing  for  you,  dear  Father, 
isn't  it?  I  have  worked  for  Leontine  several  times, 
when  Mother  was  out.  I  have  elegant  French  testi- 
monials at  call.' 

"  Well,  then  he  gave  her  up,  and  collapsed  against 
the  mantelpiece.  '  You  had  better  be  careful  of 
your  get-up,  on  the  occasion,'  he  said,  looking  at  her 
in  the  doorway.  '  I  will  do  my  best,'  says  Violet, 
turning  tragic.  '  I  remember  that  Cook,  the  one  I 
engaged  at  an  office  for  Uncle  Arthur's  wife,  had  an 
especially  nice  hat.  I  doubt  if  I  can  find  such  a  nice 
one  as  Cook's.    Mine  are  all  full  of  confetti.'     '  Of 


56  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

what'?  '  said  Uncle  Claude.  '  From  the  Carnival,  at 
Mentone,'  said  Violet.  '  No  one  can  wear  a  hat  that 
is  full  of  disgusting  little  paper  things,  can  they? ' 
'  If  I  accompany  you  to  your  ofBce,'  says  Uncle 
Claude,  '  I  should  wish  you  to  do  me  credit.  What 
is  the  price  of  a  respectable  hat'?  '  '  Can  you  bear 
me  in  a  bonnet*? '  says  Violet,  turning  more  tragic 
still.  *  It  is  so  much  more  comfortable,  and  Leontine 
says  my  contours  support  it  fairly.' 

"He  laughed  at  that, —  he  is  just  like  Mother 
when  he  laughs;  and  then  he  stood  up  suddenly, 
and  bundled  us  off  to  bed,  because  he  had  an  article.'* 

Charles  had  read  this  lively  letter  attentively 
twice,  eating  peas  the  while  out  of  the  pail  beside 
him,  when  the  new  gardener  appeared  at  the  extreme 
end  of  the  verdant  vista  to  the  right.  At  the  un- 
expected sight  of  a  young  gentleman  on  his  stool,  he 
hovered  in  doubt,  and  seemed  ready  to  retreat  again. 
But  he  need  have  had  no  fear.  Ever  ready  for 
fresh  discoveries  upon  the  path  of  life,  Mr.  Shovell 
stowed  away  the  letters  at  once,  and  prepared  to  be 
sociable. 

"  How  are  you*?  "  he  said,  leaning  to  get  a  view  of 
the  gardener,  who  was  dodging  him  at  the  end  of  the 
alley.  "  Is  this  your  pail  ?  I  am  afraid  I  have  upset 
a  few,  by  inadvertence." 

The  new  gardener  said  nothing,  which  seemed 


GLASSWELL  57 

his  principal  characteristic;  but  he  took  the  pail 
Charles  advanced  in  his  direction,  and  began  nip- 
ping off  the  clustering  pods,  choosing  the  right  ones, 
among  flowers  and  half-grown  fruits,  with  wonder- 
ful celerity  and  judgment.  Charles  picked  per- 
functorily also,  chucking  a  pod  from  time  to  time 
upon  the  pail,  and  missing  it  not  infrequently. 

"  It  seems  to  me,"  he  said  soon,  "  that  I  should 
not  earn  my  living  at  this  game.  What  do  you  think 
about  it,  John*?  " 

"  Abel,  sir,"  said  the  new  gardener.  His  accent 
was  impeccable,  Charles  observed,  and  the  "  sir " 
seemed,  in  his  mouth,  a  graceful  superfluity. 

"  Excellent,"  said  Charles  cordially.  "  Infinitely 
more  original  than  John,  and  Biblical  too.  But  you 
will  never  get  them  to  call  you  that." 

"  No,  sir^  "  said  the  new  gardener,  busily  picking. 

"  No,"  said  Charles,  watching  him  as  busily. 
"  What  other  names  have  you  now,  I  wonder*?  " 

The  man  glanced  at  him,  as  though  with  a  shade 
of  suspicion :  but  said,  in  the  same  refined  and  quiet 
accent,  "  Peacock,  sir.    Vane-Peacock." 

"  You  never  mean  it  I  "  said  Charles,  almost  stag- 
gering off  the  stool.  "  Vane, —  and  Peacock  too? 
Mine  is  Shovell, —  simply  Shovell,  you  know. 
Hadn't  we  better  change?  "  The  proposal  was  made 
so  earnestly  as  to  take  Mr.  Peacock  aback;  but  he 
found  nothing  to  do  but  to  pick  peas,  so  Charles  con- 


58  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

tinued.  "  Shovell,  you  know, —  spades.  It's  even 
appropriate  to  the  calling.  I  can't  hear  my  mother 
calling  for  Vane-Peacock.  Where's  Vane-Peacock*? 
I  suppose  she  knew  it  when  she  engaged  you"?  " 

"  She  did  not  engage  me,"  said  the  gardener,  with 
another  look  at  Charles.  He  was  a  tall,  imposing 
figure  of  a  man,  but  for  all  his  physical  stateliness, 
his  bearing  had  a  touch  of  uncertainty  about  it.  His 
features,  as  Charles  had  noticed  from  the  drawing- 
room,  were  admirable,  but  the  lips  and  chin,  the  lines 
which  testify  to  character,  were  obscured  by  a  short 
beard. 

"  Didn't  she^  "  said  Charles.  "  Who  did  then,— 
his  Reverence?  Ah,  well,  he's  a  Socialist,  of  course, 
so  it  would  strike  him  less." 

During  the  long  silence  that  ensued,  he  wondered 
if  Mr.  Vane-Peacock  was  by  any  chance  offended. 
His  own  affability  was  sometimes  apt  to  be  mis- 
interpreted; and  this,  by  all  outward  signs,  as  well 
as  in  name,  was  a  remarkable  fellow. 

"  I  wonder,"  mused  Charles,  "  if  this  is  what  they 
call  a  gentleman  gardener*?  I  ought  to  have  asked 
the  governor  before  I  started  talking.  It's  so  very 
hard  to  make  out  nowadays ;  and  one  would  not  want 
to  blunder  at  first  acquaintance." 

"  You  pick  peas  wonderfully  fast,"  he  said  polite- 
ly. "I  suppose  you  studied  your  profession.  Where 
did  you  start  life,  now.    London*?  " 


GLASSWELL  59 

"  Staines,"  said  Mr.  Vane-Peacock. 

"  To  be  sure, —  my  mistake."  Charles  laughed 
agreeably.  "  Not  many  market-gardens  in  the  City, 
are  there'?  It's  a  pretty  stiff  training,  I  suppose." 
He  tugged  at  the  stalk  of  a  pod.  "  What  are  the 
qualities,  in  your  opinion,  one  most  requires"? 
Patience  ?  "  He  abandoned  the  stiff  pod,  and  pointed 
it  out  to  Peacock,  who  twitched  it  off  and  threw  it 
in  the  pail.  "  You  see,"  he  added  gravely,  "  I  am 
thinking  of  taking  up  some  sort  of  profession  myself, 
one  of  these  days :  and  that  might  do." 

Vane-Peacock  set  down  the  pail,  turned  round 
upon  Charles,  and  stared.  Thus  seen  full-face,  he 
was  certainly  a  very  handsome  man;  though  blank 
astonishment  is  not  the  expression  which  sets  off  ad- 
mirable features  best. 

"  I  am  afraid,  Vane-Peacock,"  said  Charles,  re- 
fiecting  aloud,  "  that  Margery  will  want  to  paint  you. 
You  have  not  yet  met  the  younger  Miss  Gibbs,  I  be- 
lieve. She  is  coming  home  on  Sunday.  Have  you 
ever  sat  for  your  portrait  to  a  young  lady"?  "^hat 
needs  patience,  if  you  like.  But  Margery  swoops 
upon  everybody,  regardless  of  their  more  regular  oc- 
cupations ;  and  I  cannot  think  she  will  long  let  you 
off.    I  only  warn  you,"  he  added,  "  for  your  good." 

"  Thank  you,  sir,"  mumbled  Mr.  Peacock. 
Charles  thought  he  perceived  him  blushing,  actually, 
as  he  moved  among  the  peas. 


6o  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

"  That  last  speech  was  an  exact  reproduction  of 
what  I  said  to  Bob  Brading  last  Sunday,"  he  re- 
flected, "  and  Abel  blushes  in  just  the  same  fashion  as 
Bob.  Now,  Bob  will  be  a  baronight  as  soon  as  Di\ 
Ashwin  has  finished  off  his  father,  and  Abel  studied 
gardening  at  Staines.  Of  course,  on  some  questions 
the  classes  might  resemble  one  another.  It  migh:  be 
simply  the  name  Margery, —  it's  such  a  frightfully 
feminine-sounding  one.  Any  man  of  real  self-re- 
spect would  shy  at  it  a  little." 

"  I  don't  suppose  you  have  any  sisters,"  said 
Charles,  raising  his  voice  as  the  gardener  retreated 
down  the  row.  "  Five?  Oh,  that's  all  right.  Pretty, 
are  they?  —  I  expect  so.  You  have  cousins  perhaps 
as  well?  Female  ones?  On  the  Vane-Peacock  side, 
or  the  other?  I  say,  I  hope  you  don't  mind  my 
gassing  like  this.     It's  only  my  way." 

The  new  gardener  did  not  mind  it,  apparently. 
At  least,  he  could  easily  have  moved  to  the  next  rank 
of  peas  if  he  had  chosen.  Charles  watched  him 
wistfully,  envying  his  power  of  dignified  silence,  but 
quite  incapable  of  imitating  it.  The  sound  of  his 
own  voice  among  the  peas  was  dear  to  him.  Be- 
sides, if  he  went  into  the  house  to  his  German,  as 
duty  had  for  some  time  past  been  directing  him, 
Vane-Peacock  would  be  so  lonely. 

"  I  hope  you  like  the  cook,"  said  Charles,  shifting 
the  stool  a  trifle  in  his  wake.     "  She  is  Mother's 


GLASSWELL  61 

choice:  at  least  Mother  approved  of  her.  Miss 
Gibbs'  cousin,  Miss  Ashwin,  chose  her  actually,  at  a 
registry  office  in  London." 

At  the  name,  the  new  gardener's  shoulders  started. 
He  stopped  working,  braced  himself,  and  stood  up- 
right.    "  Miss  Askw'm,  sir?  "  he  said. 

"  Violet  Ashwin,"  said  Charles  airily,  much 
pleased  by  his  attention.  "  Pretty  name,  isn't  it'?  I've 
a  letter  from  her  here."  He  began  to  consider  if, 
pending  the  arrival  of  Margery,  he  could  show  the 
letter  to  this  quiet,  sympathetic,  distinguished-look- 
ing man.  But  he  decided  he  would  not  proceed  with- 
out more  definite  encouragement.  A  man  so  evi- 
dently rich  in  sisters  and  cousins  as  Peacock  might 
even  be  disdainful  of  his  dear  possession. 

"The  hawfinches  have  been  at  these  peas,  sir," 
said  Peacock,  after  a  pause, —  much  the  longest 
sentence  he  had  yet  pronounced.  Charles  longed  to 
congratulate  him  on  the  well-marked  opening  of  the 
word  hawfinch,  but  fancied  it  might  not  be 
acceptable. 

"  Hawfinches  it  is,"  he  said,  endeavouring  not  to 
overdo  the  aspirate.  "  The  windmills  are  supposed 
to  scare  them.  I  saw  you  admiring  them  lately,  out 
of  the  drawing-room  window.  Did  you  have  wind- 
mills at  Staines  *? " 

"  No,  sir,"  said  Peacock. 

"  I  thought  as  much.    The  governor  made  them, 


62  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

and  Margery,  I  believe,  chose  the  colours.  Yet  I 
had  my  doubts  if  the  sort  of  thing  is  done  in  hrst- 
ciass  gardens.  To  my  mind  the  decoration  is  over- 
done. I  can  imagine  a  hawfinch  saying, —  '  Quite  a 
pleasant  breeze,  my  dear.  Come  along  and  eat  peas, 
and  watch  Mr.  Gibbs'  little  windmills  turning.' 
But  that's  the  gentleman-amateur  all  over,  isn't  it*?  " 

Charles  thought  this  a  neat  trap,  and  watched 
Vane-Peacock,  or  what  he  could  see  of  him,  through 
the  hedge.  He  thought  he  really  must  betray  him- 
self if  he  answered;  and  quite  forgot  that  he  might 
choose  the  course  of  not  answering  at  all.  This  nega- 
tive quality  in  the  man  was  disconcerting,  and  pro- 
vocative. Charles  decided  that  he  would  have  to 
talk  to  Peacock  at  every  opportunity,  or  he  would 
really  finish  by  respecting  him. 

"  His  manners  are  perfect,"  pronounced  Charles. 
"  How  little  it  needs,  to  be  classed  as  well-mannered, 
really.  Peacock  has  hardly  answered  any  of  my 
remarks,  and  when  he  does  it  is  generally  by  a  mono- 
syllable or  a  repetition.  Yet  I  defy  a  duke  to  behave 
better  than  Peacock  has  done  this  half-hour,  and  he 
has  worked  hard  all  the  time.  Of  course,  physical 
magnificence  is  more  than  half  the  battle ;  but  a  quiet 
manner  increases  it.  And  I  never  in  all  my  life  met 
a  quieter  manner  than  Peacock's." 


VI 

VISITORS  AT   GLASSWELL 

Charles  saved  up  Peacock  carefully  as  a  subject 
of  conversation,  when  the  motor-party  arrived  on 
Sunday,  for  he  felt  he  might  be  in  want  of  subjects. 
He  had  not  yet  met  Dr.  Ashwin  face  to  face,  and  had 
neglected  him  rather  flagrantly  at  the  wedding,  not 
being  properly  posted  up  as  to  his  importance. 
Charles  hoped  to  the  last  that  he  would  be  prevented 
from  coming,  persuading  himself  that  doctors  always 
are  prevented,  generally  on  the  doorstep,  by  a  tele- 
gram. In  this  case,  Violet  and  Margery  would  arrive 
alone,  go  about  arm-in-arm  as  girls  do,  and  could  be 
dealt  with  in  the  mass,  as  it  were,  with  a  pleasant 
patter  of  brotherly  chaff.  Charles  might  be  said  to 
shine  at  patter;  but  society  conversation,  in  the  glare 
of  publicity,  and  under  his  quasi-uncle's  cool  dark 
eye,  was  quite  another  pair  of  shoes. 

So  indeed  Charles  found  it :  for  the  party  turned 
up  complete,  and  punctual  to  the  hour  given,  with- 
out even  the  extra  ten  minutes  Dr.  Ashwin  had  al- 
lowed for  his  daughter's  veils  at  starting.  Charles 
heard  the  arrival  from  his  room  above  the  drive,  and 


64  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

took  stock  of  the  family  gathering  carefully  over  the 
banisters,  before  he  strolled  casually  down  into  the 
hall. 

Dr.  Ashwin  had  placed  himself  at  his  hostess's 
elbow,  and  appeared  to  be  behaving  quietly,  and  not 
glittering  in  any  manner  to  annoy.  He  also  very 
evidently  suffered  from  hay-fever,  a  tiresome  and  dis- 
figuring ailment,  so  that  Charles  thought  less  of  his 
appearance  than  he  had  been  led  to  expect  by  the 
girls.  Margery,  a  tall,  pretty  creature  of  eighteen, 
was  circled  appropriately  by  the  Rector's  arm,  and 
leant  against  his  shoulder,  laughing  shyly  as  usual  at 
the  remarks  of  others.  Margery  was  rather  blowsed 
and  dishevelled  by  the  wind;  but  Violet,  having  dis- 
carded veils  and  other  impedimenta,  and  touched  her 
hair  to  either  side  with  two  delicate  decided  hands, 
emerged  upon  the  world  immaculate  as  when  she 
shrouded  herself  at  starting. 

Charles  felt  half  exultant,  half  confused  by  her 
completeness.  They  were  a  large  mixed  party  with 
whom  Miss  Ashwin  had  to  deal,  but,  undismayed 
by  numbers  after  her  recent  practice  at  Mentone, 
she  met  everybody  correctly,  with  short  emphatic 
speeches.  It  had  been  too  sad,  Mrs.  Gibbs  was  in- 
formed, to  refuse  the  invitation  to  Glasswell,  and  far 
better  than  Violet  deserved  to  have  Margery. 
"  Father  and  I,"  Maud  was  privately  assured, 
thought  Margery  looking  quite  lovely,  and  so  well ! 


GLASSWELL  65 

Uncle  Arthur  was  to  tell  Father  at  once  what  the 
rose  was  by  the  gate,  and  see  that  he  wrote  it  down, 
because  he  was  so  careless.  She  gave  Charles  pre- 
cisely the  same  hand-shake, —  rather  high, —  that 
she  gave  to  Robert  Brading,  but  she  added  a  little 
smile  in  Charles'  case,  demure  and  dimly  appealing. 
Mr.  Shepherd  the  curate  she  bowed  to  gravely. 

Charles  thought  he  saw,  and  was  triumphant  in 
the  thought,  that  his  mother  disapproved  on  sight  of 
Violet.  Mrs.  Gibbs,  superficially  minded,  would 
naturally  not  penetrate  to  her  finer  qualities.  Bob 
Brading,  on  the  other  hand,  saw  and  looked  beyond 
them;  for  though  manifestly  respectful  to  Miss  Ash- 
win,  the  daughter  of  a  man  he  admired,  and  attentive 
to  all  she  said,  his  eyes  did  not  dwell  upon  her.  She 
did  not  exist  for  him  beside  Margery  Gibbs. 

Robert,  an  excellently  modest  youth,  thought  that 
he  had  fathomed  the  reason  of  Margery's  apparent 
indifference  to  his  presence  at  Glasswell.  He  was 
labouring  in  the  matter  under  a  misapprehension,  the 
fault  of  Charles.  Robert  had  plenty  of  solid  brain- 
power, and  had  scored  successively  in  all  the  exam- 
inations where  Charles  had  failed;  but  he  was  not 
ingenious,  and  he  was  a  prey  to  ingenuity.  Charles 
educated  Robert  by  startling  him  frequently,  and  up- 
setting him  at  intervals ;  and  he  had  been  upset  into 
an  absolute  bramble-patch  of  delusion  over  the  Ash- 
win  affair. 


66  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

Charles  had  started  confidences,  as  usual,  by 
mentioning  to  Bob  on  a  suitable  twilight  occasion, 
that  only  one  woman  in  the  world  had  ever  under- 
stood him.  He  chose  his  hour  and  his  tone  of  voice 
so  well,  that  Bob  was  persuaded  the  only  womxan 
was  dead.  Then,  a  little  later,  with  the  news  of 
Mrs.  Shovell's  engagement,  a  wave  of  excitement  on 
Charles'  horizon  became  most  apparent  to  his  friends, 
exhibiting  itself  by  the  strangest  feverish  symptoms ; 
and  Robert,  much  hustled  by  small  hints,  could  only 
suppose  that  the  only  woman  had  come  to  life  again, 
and  was  at  present  in  the  offing.  Still  under  these 
confused  impressions,  he  went  down  to  Glasswell  on 
a  Saturday  for  tennis, —  and  saw  Margery  Gibbs. 
There  could  be  no  further  doubt  of  it,  of  course, — 
unhappily  for  Robert.  And  he  was  only  waiting 
now,  as  he  told  himself  firmly,  to  congratulate 
Charles. 

Great  doubt,  soul-searching,  and  suspense  were 
Robert's  portion  this  day,  owing  to  Margery's  diffi- 
dent and  non-committal  behaviour;  and  he  was  very 
far  at  present  from  divining  that  the  only  woman,  all 
the  time,  for  the  admirable  Shovell,  was  that  slim 
little  girl  with  the  waves  of  dark  hair,  who  sat 
daintily  poised  upon  a  blue  sofa,  and  whose  sole 
fortune  in  life  it  was  to  be  called  cousin  by  Margery. 
Thus  are  men  made,  and  from  this  kind  of  wretched 
groping  are  clever  men  not  exempted.     Meanwhile, 


GLASSWELL  67 

Robert  talked  to  both  girls  much  more  readily  than 
Charles;  for  Brading  was  one  of  those  people,  hated 
by  their  wittier  friends,  with  a  store  of  nothings  to 
say  on  every  occasion,  and  with  no  apparent  con- 
sciousness of  the  vanity  of  their  conversation. 

Charles,  as  he  told  himself,  could  not  get  a  word 
in  edgeways,  wished  he  had  not  invited  Brading,  and 
began  to  sulk.  He  longed  for  somebody  to  snub 
Brading,  who  had  served  every  purpose  he  could 
serve  by  breaking  the  first  stiffness ;  and  whose  plain 
duty  it  now  was  to  leave  the  field  to  others  better 
qualified  for  the  game. 

The  first  person,  however,  to  come  to  our  hero's 
assistance  was  Dr.  Ashwin,  who  had  been  sweeping 
in  the  company  methodically,  while  he  fought  his 
threatened  asthma,  and  talked  to  Mrs.  Gibbs.  When 
the  party  re-grouped,  he  walked  across  to  Robert, 
and  asked  him  how  his  father  did.  This,  Charles 
thought,  would  have  done  for  most  fellows,  for  Dr. 
Ashwin  was  known  to  be  one  of  the  few  authorities 
in  England  on  Sir  Rupert  Brading's  disease.  How- 
ever, Bob  had  a  commonplace  all  ready  for  him,  as 
it  appeared,  and  the  pair  moved  aside,  speaking  low. 

Then  Margery,  warned  by  her  cousin's  hand 
plucking  at  a  stray  curl,  slipped  to  a  glass  to  smooth 
her  hair, —  and  Charles  had  his  tardy  opportunity. 
But  alas !  the  opportunity  being  unforeseen,  and  his 
sulks  half  settled,  he  found  nothing  to  say;  and  after 


68  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

a  pause,  Miss  Ashwin  obviously  waiting  for  him 
while  she  watched  the  point  of  her  shoe,  she  had  to 
make  the  opening  move. 

"  I  am  glad  Mr.  Brading's  poor  Father  is  better," 
said  Violet. 

"  Had  you  known  Brading  before,  then'?  "  said 
Charles.  The  speech  was  that  of  an  ordinary  young 
man  in  a  temper,  simply.  Violet  glanced  at  him 
surprised. 

"  Oh,  no, —  not  this  one,"  she  said.  "  But  we  hear 
of  the  old  one  so  much.  Father  is  always  having 
telegrams." 

"  I  suppose  he  won't  last  out  the  winter,"  said 
Charles,  who  knew  very  little  of  his  friend's  family 
circumstances:  though,  it  need  not  be  mentioned, 
Robert  knew  all  his. 

"  If  he  would  only  trust  Father  altogether,"  said 
Violet,  with  a  bitter  sigh.  "  But  he  only  sends  pan- 
icky telegrams.    Poor  Mr.  Brading  I  " 

"  I  don't  think  Bob  has  much  to  be  sorry  for," 
said  Charles  sarcastically.  Then,  owing  to  Violet's 
silence,  he  wondered  if  the  sarcasm  was  misplaced. 
He  could  not  explain  to  her  that  he  had,  as  it  were, 
reserved  her  sympathy  to  himself,  and  that  Brading's 
family  tragedies,  however  startling  at  first  acquaint- 
ance, bore  no  comparison  with  his.  Argue  it  as  you 
would,  old  Brading's  demise  left  Bob  a  baronet.  Bob 
would  never  have  to  choose  among  six  revolting 


GLASSWELL  69 

careers  in  order  to  make  a  living,  like  Charles.  Such 
details  are  not  in  taste  to  mention,  but  Violet  might 
give  a  passing  thought  to  them. 

Before  they  got  any  further,  the  Reverend  Arthur 
Gibbs  approached  their  corner,  bearing  slowly  down 
upon  them,  in  all  his  rectorial  Sunday  grandeur. 
Violet  beamed  a  demure  welcome  as  he  came. 

"  Mademoiselle  est  servie,"  remarked  Mr.  Gibbs, 
not  too  loud,  crooking  his  arm  suggestively,  and 
cocking  an  eye  at  Violet.  She  seized  the  arm,  button- 
holing him. 

"  Oh,  but  surely, —  Miss  Lennox,"  she  protested, 
with  her  charming  intensity,  as  of  a  fine  hostess's 
feelings  outraged. 

"  I  doubt  it,"  said  the  Rector,  "really.  The  Church 
has  an  eye  for  the  quality."  He  winked  towards 
\'iolet's  father's  back.  "  Next  New  Year, —  you 
mark  my  words." 

"  How  vulgar  I  "  said  Violet,  with  such  incisive- 
ness  that  the  doctor  swung  about,  surprised. 

"  Sir  Claude,"  said  the  Rector,  on  the  instant, 
"  you  will  take  my  wife.  Hurry,  man,  because  we're 
hungry.  Margery,  stop  coyly  curling  your  hair,  and 
take  Brading.  Miss  Lennox  will  honour  Charles. 
Maud, —  bother,  where's  the  girl  gone*?  Well,  she 
will  be  found  in  the  dining-room,  fussing  about.  I 
wish  I'd  called  her  Martha.  She  will  sit  by  you, 
Shepherd,  eventually,  if  you  follow  patiently  behind 


70  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

the  flock.  It's  the  shepherd's  time-honoured  posi- 
tion," he  added  for  his  partner's  benefit. 

"  Surely  in  front,"  said  Violet. 

"  Don't  show  too  much  nasty  learning,"  advised 
the  Rector,  "  or  you'll  frighten  Charles.  Shepherd 
goes  behind  me^  naturally." 

"  Why?  "  said  Violet,  with  innocence,  smiling 
sweetly  over  her  shoulder  at  the  curate. 

Even  the  curate  came  in  for  her  sympathy !  —  it 
was  maddening.  Charles  had  hoped  at  least  to  have 
her  ear  at  luncheon;  but  instead  of  that  he  was 
snubbed  by  a  light-minded  stepfather,  and  given 
Miss  Lennox,  who  was  wearing  something  like  a 
baby's  robe,  and  was,  in  Charles'  opinion,  far  too  old 
for  it.  He  had  seen  Violet's  eye  rest  for  a  thoughtful 
moment  on  this  garment,  as  she  passed;  and  it  had 
given  him  his  cue,  for  he  was  very  heedful  of  her 
expression. 

By  adroit  management  he  did  get  a  place  next 
her  at  table,  and  Brading,  opposite,  was  happily 
engrossed  by  Margery,  for  he  had  at  last  found  a 
subject, —  art, —  on  which  she  would  reply  a  little. 
But  Charles  was  baulked  anew  in  confidence,  by 
Violet's  undisguised  interest  in  the  dialogue  between 
the  host  and  his  brother-in-law,  further  down  the 
table;  for  the  doctor  sat  at  Miss  Lennox's  other 
side,  and  engaged  her  very  soon,  in  duty  bound,  on 
the  subject  of  hei  industry  at  Battersea.    Mr.  Gibbs 


GLASSWELL  71 

prompted  for  a  time,  and  then,  perceiving  Claude's 
smartness,  desisted, 

"  Let  him  go,"  he  soliloquised  over  his  carving, 
with  the  eye  of  amusement.  "  Tape  and  buttons 
have  no  mysteries  for  him,  have  they?  You  and  I 
will  talk  of  routs  in  the  Metropolis,  meanwhile." 

"  Thanks,  Uncle  Arthur,"  said  Violet.  "  But  do 
you  mind  my  listening?    She  is  so  interesting." 

"  Bother  I  "  thought  Charles. 

"  She's  a  good  soul,"  said  the  Rector  quietly. 
"  More  sense  than  appears.  She'll  plant  you  some- 
where, I'll  warrant,  if  that's  all  you're  wanting." 

"  It  is  not  all,"  said  Violet.  "  I  have  very  definite 
proposals,  which  I  formulated  to  Father,  coming 
down." 

"  Humph  I  "  said  the  Rector. 

"  Are  you  working  against  me?  "  enquired  Violet. 
"Ishe,  Mr.  Shovell?" 

"  Kindly  notice  those  peas,"  said  the  Rector.  "  I 
grew  them." 

"  Where  is  Battersea  exactly?  "  said  Violet,  clasp- 
ing her  hands  on  the  table. 

"  Good  Lord,"  said  the  Rector.  "  I  christened  you 
there." 

"  I  don't  remember  it,"  said  Violet.  "  Have  mercy 
on  my  ignorance.  I  really  know  nrothing  that  side, 
—  except  Waterloo." 

"  Waterloo,"  said  the  Rector,  abstracted.   "  Well, 


72  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

there  have  been  some  Waterloos  fought  there,  even 
in  my  time." 

"  Won't  you  tell  me  some?  "  said  Violet.  He 
glanced  amusement  at  her,  with  an  intent  look,  all 
the  same. 

"  You*?  "  he  said.  "  Goodness,  no.  You  eat  your 
dinner.  Miss." 

"  You  see  what  he  thinks  of  me,"  said  Violet, 
plaintive  but  quite  uncrushed,  to  Charles.  "  The 
worst  of  churchmen  is,  they  always  think  they  know 
what  is  suitable  for  people." 

"  Particularly  girls,"  said  Margery  opposite. 

"  Of  course,  he  has  you  and  Maud,"  said  Violet  to 
Margery.  "  That  gives  him  more  right  to  speak  than 
many  men  might  have.  But  he  probably  takes  your 
usefulness  for  granted,  and  would  have  called  you 
lamentable  exceptions  if  you  had  not  been.  Now,  I 
am  an  exception " 

"  But  not  lamented,"  said  her  uncle. 

"  Encouraged  I  "  cried  Violet.  "  Mother  is  en- 
couraged too."  She  ate  a  pea  and  had  an  idea. 
"  Listen,  Uncle  Arthur.  It  was  Margery's  in- 
fluence   " 

"  Oh,  Violet !  "  interposed  Margery,  shocked. 

"  Her  quiet  influence,"  said  Violet.  "  It  was  like 
a  ray  of  light  in  our  house, —  and  even  Father 
felt  it." 

"  Henrietta,"  complained  Mr.  Gibbs,  "  I  am  being 


GLASSWELL  73 

hen-pecked.  There's  a  Monstrous  Regiment  sitting 
upon  me.  Why  on  earth  do  I  have  to  preside  at  my 
own  table,  with  relatives  to  either  side'?  As  well 
be  in  the  nursery,"  he  grumbled. 

"  Arthur,"  said  Mrs.  Gibbs'  weightiest  tone.  "  Do 
you  hear  what  Lois  is  saying^  That  Miss  Eccles 
thinks  of  leaving  her, —  again  I  Why  can't  the  girl 
be  contented*?  " 

The  host's  attention  was  diverted.  "  Who  is  Miss 
Eccles?  "  said  Violet  sotto  voce  to  Charles. 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  Charles,  drawing  in  his  chair 
a  little,  "  and  I  shouldn't  ask." 

But  Violet  did.  Her  elegant  little  eyebrows  went 
up  at  Margery  across  the  table,  for  host  and  hostess 
were  conversing  across  her.  Margery  touched  part 
of  the  costume  she  was  wearing. 

"  Forewoman, —  she  made  it,"  signalled  Margery. 

"  Very  good,"  signalled  Violet,  with  an  emphatic 
nod,  and  turned  pensive  for  a  considerable  period. 
The  truth  was, —  and  had  better  be  hastily  stated, — 
that  the  first  real  discouragement  in  Miss  Ashwin's 
contemplated  project  had  come,  neither  from  her 
father  nor  her  uncle,  nor  even  from  Miss  Lennox's 
awkward  manner  and  harassed  face, —  but  from 
Miss  Lennox's  Sunday  gown  below  it.  Dress  was 
to  the  point,  even  Violet's  father  could  not  deny; 
also  the  mere  sight  of  incompetence  in  such  things 
vexed  Violet.    The  "  silver  path  "  on  which  her  feet 


74  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

had  been  set  in  life  had  been  such  that  the  best,  and 
the  best  only,  fell  constantly  beneath  her  view.  The 
second-best,  the  cheap,  the  dowdy,  worried  her 
vaguely,  even  while  her  sense  of  duty  found  excuses 
for  it.  She  had  that  habit  of  the  rich  of  believing 
that  such  imperfections  need  not  be.  She  did  not 
believe  that  Miss  Lennox  need  look  like  that,  with 
proper  attention:  and  she  felt  a  sympathy,  remote 
but  quite  perceptible,  with  the  forewoman  of  whom 
Miss  Lennox  disapproved. 

Quick  of  ear  and  eye,  she  thought  she  detected  in 
her  father's  manner,  heed-fully  suited  to  his  society 
as  it  always  was,  that  Miss  Lennox  was  not  the 
soaring  ideal  he  had  contemplated  for  his  daughter, 
on  the  strength  of  Margery's  recommendation. 
Violet  could  not  catch  all  that  passed,  for  Mrs. 
Gibbs  and  her  friend  were  both  talking  at  the 
doctor  simultaneously;  and  the  Rector's  own  share 
in  the  colloquy,  being  distant,  was  largely  short 
replies,  or  glances  of  intelligence  exchanged  down 
the  table  with  his  wife. 

"  Perhaps  it's  all  for  the  best,"  he  said  quietly 
once;  and  Violet  gathered  he  was  alluding  to  the 
projected  departure  of  Miss  Eccles.  She  shut  her 
lips  and  made  a  resolution  to  look  into  this  matter 
later.  Shortly  after,  by  one  of  the  inexplicable 
coincidences  of  table  dialogue,  everybody  seemed 


GLASSWELL  75 

to  be  suddenly  at  the  end  of  what  they  had  to  say, 
and  there  was  silence  in  the  room. 

It  was  Charles'  long-looked-for  opportunity. 
Robert  Brading  opened  his  mouth,  but  Charles  was 
first  in  the  breach. 

"  Our  new  gardener,"  he  said,  for  everybody's 
benefit,  but  as  though  continuing  a  conversation 
with  Violet,  "  is  a  strong,  silent  man." 

"  Charles,  what  nonsense,"  said  Mrs.  Gibbs. 

"  He  has  the  manners  of  the  ancien  regime,"  said 
Charles. 

"  England  at  its  best,"  said  the  Rector,  amused, 
"  and  France  at  its  worst.    Go  on,  my  boy." 

''  And  his  name  is  Vane-Peacock,"  finished  Charles. 

It  had  all  the  effect  he  had  contemplated. 
"  Impossible,"  said  Dr.  Ashwin's  definite  soft  stac- 
cato, just  forestalling  the  laughter  of  the  guests. 

"  Truth,"  said  Charles,  shaking  his  head,  "  is 
stranger  than  fiction.  Vane-Peacock  is  his  name. 
It  has  caused  my  mother  sleepless  nights,  trying  to 
get  over  it,  or  round  it,  since  he  came.     You  see 

"    aside   to   Violet, —  "  her  present   name    is 

Gibbs." 

"  It  really  is  a  ridiculous  combination,  isn't  it?  " 
said  Mrs.  Gibbs  to  her  neighbour,  ignoring  Charles. 

"  It  is  an  impossible  one,"  said  Claude  Ashwin 
again. 


76  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

"  Do  you  suggest,  sir,"  said  the  Rector  severely, 
"  that  my  gardener  is  masquerading'?  " 

"  I  do,"  said  Claude.  "  Give  me  ten  minutes' 
private  interview,  and  I  promise  I  could  at  least 
extract  the  Vane." 

"Talks  like  a  dentist,  doesn't  he*? "  said  Mr. 
Gibbs,  with  a  grimace  in  Violet's  direction.  Then 
he  leant  back.  "  It's  not  to  be  thought  of  is 
it,  Claude'?"  he  jibed.  "Double-barreled,  —  the 
working-classes, —  where  are  we  getting  to,  hey?" 

"  Look  here,  will  you  introduce  me?  "  said  his 
brother-in-law. 

"And  me?"  cried  Violet. 

"  Vane-Peacock  is  rather  shy,"  objected  Charles. 

"  So  I  should  expect,"  said  Claude.  He  leant  a 
second  to  look  at  Charles  across  the  intervening 
lady.  Owing  to  chance  combinations,  the  boy  was 
the  one  member  of  the  company  he  had  not  yet 
thoroughly  investigated,  and  he  seized  the  shifting 
opportunity  to  make  sure  of  him.  These  short 
inspections  were  his  habit,  in  connection,  no  doubt, 
with  the  infallible  notebook  of  his  memory.  But 
Charles  was  not  used  to  it,  and  he  coloured  up. 

"  He  thinks  Peacock  a  fraud,  and  you're  in  collu- 
sion, Charles,"  said  the  Rector  kindly.  "  And  I'm 
harbouring  criminals,  I  shouldn't  wonder.  Sharp 
men  are  so  suspicious.  The  man's  a  capital  worker, 
Claude, —  that  should  appeal  to  you." 


GLASSWELL  77 

"  With  a  Praxitelean  profile,"  added  Charles. 

"  He's  certainly  a  handsome  fellow,"  said  the 
Rector,  with  that  manner  of  detachment  that 
is  persuasive.  "  I  say  I  "  he  added.  "  Margery's 
drawn." 

"So  will  he  be,"  said  Charles;  and  everybody 
laughed,  as  the  artist,  whose  shy  aspect  had  changed 
to  eagerness  for  the  moment,  shrank  back  again, 
blushing  consciously. 

Dr.  Ashwin,  having  allowed  a  sufficient  interlude 
for  the  young  people's  chaffing,  returned  to  his 
neighbour  Miss  Lennox. 

"  I  never  knew  but  one  man,"  he  said  to  her  in- 
differently, "  who  really  had  the  mask  of  a  Greek 
warrior;  and  he  was  one  of  the  weakest  characters  I 
ever  met." 

"  Indeed'?  "  said  Miss  Lennox.  "  Where  did  you 
meet  him,  Dr.  Ashwin^  " 

"  He  once  fell  under  my  care  in  hospital  for  a 
time,  for  injuries  to  the  neck." 

"  To  the  neck'?  "  said  the  host,  his  brow  knitting. 
Robert  Brading's  head  turned  sharply  also. 

"  Oh,  Father !  "  gasped  Violet,  paling.  One  little 
hand  rose  instinctively  to  her  throat. 

"An  accident,  I  suppose?"  said  Mrs.  Gibbs, 
quietly  sensible. 

"  Accidental,  yes,"  said  the  doctor.  "  It  was  en- 
tirely his  own  stupidity,  as  I  informed  him."     The 


78  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

careless  reply  reached  Violet,  whose  clenched  hand 
dropped  on  the  table  again.  Her  uncle,  who  had 
been  watching  her  in  some  anxiety,  kept  his  mouth 
shut,  since  Claude  had  given  the  lead. 

"  Did  he  die^  "  blurted  Robert,  leaning  forward. 
He  had  failed  to  notice  Violet's  change  of  colour; 
and  Margery,  who  could  have  stopped  him,  was 
puzzled.  Some  hitch  in  the  natural  sequence  had 
been  apparent  to  the  more  intelligent  members  of 
the  company;  and  Margery,  though  not  very 
sensitive,  was  highly  intelligent. 

"  No,"  said  Claude  to  Robert.    "  Not  that  time." 

Since  the  hostess  made  a  movement,  he  rose  with 
decision,  and  drew  back  Miss  Lennox's  chair.  As 
his  daughter  passed  him,  he  said  something  to  her 
low,  which  she  only  answered  with  an  emphatic 
little  movement  of  her  head  and  shoulders,  perfectly 
expressive  of  her  sentiments. 

As  for  Mr.  Shovell,  he  strolled,  carelessly  as  it 
were,  after  the  ladies;  he  stole  the  march  on  Robert 
deliberately,  though,  if  he  had  been  consulted  in  the 
matter,  he  would  have  preferred  not  to  be  obliged  to 
run  the  gauntlet  of  Violet's  father's  penetrating  eyes 
in  doing  so.  He  told  himself,  just  at  the  moment  of 
passing,  that  he  really  failed  to  perceive  what  the 
world  in  general,  and  Miss  Ashwin  in  particular,  saw 
in  this  man,  who  had  not  said  a  single  thing  worth 
listening  to  during  the  meal. 


VII 

THE  TALE  OF  ACHILLES 

"  Senile  decay,"  announced  the  Rector,  settling 
squarely  into  his  place  when  the  feminine  world  was 
gone.  "  I  never  knew  you  tell  a  pointless  story, 
Claude." 

"  I  apologise,"  said  his  brother-in-law.  "  I 
shouldn't  have  tried  it.  She  is  getting  worse,  I  think." 
The  bar  was  in  his  brow,  the  bar  that  showed  at  once 
on  any  reference  to  \'iolet.  "  I  think,"  he  added 
cautiously,  as  he  lit  a  cigarette,  "  that  Miss  Lennox 
did  not  miss  it." 

"The  point"?  Oh,  no,  not  she.  But  here's  Robert 
gaping  simply;  and  you  have  a  character  to  main- 
tain.   What  was  the  true  history  of  your  Achilles'?  " 

"  It's  simple,"  said  Claude,  glancing  in  Robert's 
direction.  "  The  man  was  such  a  natural  bungler 
that  he  couldn't  even  cut  an  artery  when  he  wished 
to;  and  I  made  out  he  had  wished  to,  quite 
genuinely,  for  some  minutes  at  least." 

"  Did  you  lecture  him  on  the  art?  "  said  the  Rector 
rather  grimly, 

"  I  refrained,"  said  Claude,  his  eyes  on  his  cigar- 


8o  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

ette;  "  there's  something  so  pitiful  in  real  stupidity." 
"  I  see,  it  was  that  that  moved  you."  Mr.  Gibbs 
seemed  content.  His  manner  to  this  "  indecently  suc- 
cessful "  relative,  several  years  his  younger,  was  very 
pleasant  and  elder-brotherly.  "  Go  on,  man,"  he 
prompted,     "  Tell  us  what  you  did." 

"  I  got  the  facts,  so  far  as  it  was  possible." 

"  Why  wasn't  it  possible^  " 

"  Stupidity,  I  tell  you.  On  my  honour,  he  barely 
knew  his  native  tongue.  Yet  he  was  English,  born 
and  bred.  Did  it  ever  occur  to  you,  Arthur,  that  a 
boy  can  come  through  all  our  board-schools,  and  not 
know  at  the  end  of  it  how  to  speak?  " 

"  The  public  schools,"  contended  Mr.  Gibbs,  "  are 
just  as  bad.  Do  you  mean  he  pronounced  imper- 
fectly*? " 

"  No.  He  had  an  ear, —  just  as  he  had  a  good  pro- 
duction, and  beautiful  teeth, —  by  no  means  always 
the  case  in  his  class." 

"  What  was  his  class  *?  " 

"  There  you  have  me, —  it  was  impossible  to  say. 
I  had  him  to  the  house  later,  and  examined  him, 
to  see  if  I  could  find  out." 

"  Sheer  curiosity,"  said  the  Rector,  with  satisfac- 
tion.    "  All  right,  go  on." 

"  I  should  think  he  had  four  or  five  dozen  words 
in  his  vocabulary;  and  no  real  morality  at  all." 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  real  morality*?  "  said  Mr. 


GLASSWELL  8i 

Shepherd  the  curate,  waking :  and  his  superior  smiled 
beneath  his  hand. 

"  He  was  governed  by  the  need  to  be  respectable," 
said  Claude,  waking  too.  "  He  had  chosen  his  words 
with  that  view  solely,  and  his  clothes,  with  a  kind 
of  admirable  caution, —  a  self-protective  instinct, 
common  to  animals  of  the  lower  orders, —  and  fools 
of  the  upper." 

*'  Oh,  I  say,"  protested  Mr.  Brading. 

"  The  society  touch,"  said  Mr.  Gibbs.  "  It's  him- 
self he's  talking  at.  Bob,  not  you." 

"  But  look  here,"  urged  Robert,  "  why  had  he  tried 
to  cut  his  throat?  That's  not  respectable,  particu- 
larly." 

"  No,"  said  Claude,  "  but  it  was,  to  his  fool's  mind. 
That  is,  it  was  more  respectable  than  prison  which 
was  the  only  remaining  alternative." 

"  All  right,"  said  the  Rector.  "  We  don't  flinch, 
as  you  see.  You  can't  make  us  jump  by  a  little  thing 
like  that.  You'll  tell  us  now  prison  is  the  natural 
destination  of  gentlemen." 

"  Gentlemanly  asses " 

"  A  pity  Charlie  left  us,"  said  the  Rector. 

"  And  gentlemen  out  of  place.  Well,  so  it  is," 
said  Claude.     "  They're  safer  there,  at  all  events." 

"  Did  you  tell  Achilles  he'd  have  been  better  in 
prison?  You  were  never  such  a  brute,  Claude. 
What  had  the  poor  fellow  taken?  " 


82  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

"  The  poor  fellow  had  taken  a  motor-car,  the  prop- 
erty of  a  man  at  Staines." 

"  I  say  I  —  that's  good  " —  from  Robert. 

"  It  might  have  been,"  Claude  agreed.  "  But  he 
shilly-shallied  over  the  business,  as  usual." 

"  You  mean  he  hesitated,"  interposed  the  curate, 
who,  slightly  flushed,  was  evidently  up  in  arms  for 
the  defence.  The  Rector,  much  entertained,  de- 
tected the  jealousy  of  the  professions,  and  sat  by 
amid  his  smoke,  prepared  to  spur  it  if  necessary. 

"  Yes,"  said  the  doctor.  "  He  had  a  devil  of  hesi- 
tation. He  didn't  even  confess  it  straight.  He  told 
me  he  had  taken  it  for  the  afternoon, —  for  a  run  to 
Oxford.  Oxford  struck  me  as  good, —  hey,  Arthur? 
Instinct  again." 

"  You  beastly  cynic  I  "  Mr.  Gibbs  was  spurred  to 
take  part.  "  Why  shouldn't  he  have  borrowed,  and 
intended  to  return  it*?  " 

"  I  don't  doubt  he  intended  it,  in  his  fashion;  but 
he  couldn't  have  done  it  for  his  life.  He  would  have 
looked  too  nice  inside." 

"  This  is  simply  jealousy,"  said  the  Rector. 
"  What  do  you  say,  Shepherd"?  I  believe  he  defeated 
you  in  argument,  Claude." 

"  He  defeated  me  utterly.  I've  never  been  so 
tired,"  said  Claude,  "  after  any  interview  in  my  life. 
I  daresay  he  despises  me  to  this  day  for  my  restless 
curiosity.    But  I  got  all  the  history  I  wanted." 


GLASSWELL  83 

"  You  supplied  it,"  said  the  Rector. 

"  He  supplied  it, —  on  my  honour,  Arthur  I  In 
the  style  of  a  spelling-book, —  but  comprehensible  to 
the  merest  philosopher.'' 

"  You  anticipate  me,"  said  Mr.  Gibbs.  "  Greats- 
man,  I  was  about  to  say,  but  yours  sounds  prettier." 

"  Was  he  nabbed,  then"? "  demanded  Robert, 
whose  object  was  the  story. 

"  He  was  traced  to  Oxford, —  and  left  in  a  hurry, 
with  the  car." 

"  For  Staines,"  cried  the  Rector.  "  What  did  I 
say?  " 

"  Doubtless:  but  he  overshot  Staines,  and  arrived 
in  London:  which  was  the  first  sensible  thing  he 
had  done." 

"  Sensible'?  "  said  the  curate. 

"  Certainly, —  if  he  had  decided  to  be  a  criminal. 
But  he  hadn't  decided  anything.  He  took  fright, — 
his  conscience  awoke,  as  you  would  say, —  left  the 
car  in  a  public  place,  where  it  was  reclaimed  by  the 
police,  and  retired  to  cut  his  throat  quietly  in  the 
neighbourhood  of  a  hospital." 

"  That  shows  prudence,  at  least,"  said  Mr.  Gibbs. 

"  The  last  infirmity  of  an  ignoble  mind,"  snapped 
Claude. 

Mr.  Shepherd,  recognising  the  quotation,  laughed. 
Then,  facing  the  staggering  fact  of  the  story,  he 
said,  "  Poor  fellow  I  "  very  gravely. 


84  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

"  Shepherd  finds  it  rather  admirable,"  said  the 
Rector.  "  I'm  not  sure  I  don't  too.  What  about 
you,  Bob-?" 

"  He  must  have  been  rather  a  footler,"  said  Mr. 
Brading,  after  thought. 

"  Good, —  it's  the  Church  against  the  laity,  then. 
We're  still  waiting  for  the  sequel,  Claude.  Having 
saved  the  scamp's  life,  and  taken  his  confession, 
what  did  you  do  next?  I  suppose  red-handed  justice 
was  waiting  for  him  round  the  corner." 

"  No,  she  was  not.  That's  where  you're  wrong. 
Justice  won't  look  at  fellows  like  that.  Undeserved 
clemency  was  waiting  for  him;  sympathy  and  con- 
sideration dogged  his  steps.  The  owner  of  the  car, 
who  had  known  him,  thought  he  was  a  very  superior . 
man,  of  very  refined  instincts,  and  he  had  done  ex- 
tremely wrong  to  let  such  a  temptation  as  an  empty 
car  stand  in  his  way." 

"  Was  he  a  Reverend  too?  "  enquired  Robert.  "  I 
say,  I'm  sorry,  Mr.  Gibbs." 

"  No.  He  was  a  rose-grower,  and  a  sentimentalist. 
Perhaps  all  rose-growers  are.  He  had  the  infernal 
folly,"  said  Claude,  warming  suddenly,  "  to  write  to 
me  —  to  me^ —  suggesting  kleptomania," 

"  It's  said  to  be  an  upper-class  malady,"  said  Mr. 
Gibbs,  a  twinkling  eye  upon  him.  Throughout,  he 
had  been  attending  more  to  the  man  than  the  story 
he  told.    That  was  the  Rector's  way. 


GLASSWELL  85 

"  I  wish  the  term  had  never  got  beyond  the  dic- 
tionary," said  Claude,  with  a  bitterness  vividly  re- 
calling his  daughter's  tone.  "  I  had  already  sent  him 
my  opinion  of  the  case,  as  clear  as  I  could  state  it, — 
just  as  I  have  stated  it  to  you." 

"  Cheek,"  agreed  Robert  soothingly.  "  What  did 
you  answer  the  rose-grower,  sir'?  " 

"  I  said,  if  he  showed  any  such  symptoms  of 
nervous  debility,  quiet  confinement  was  what  he 
needed." 

"  You  did  not,"  said  the  Rector.  "  That's  only 
the  dinner-table  version.  You  probably  hushed  the 
scandal  up,  and  started  a  collection." 

"  The  parson  at  Staines  had  already  done  that," 
his  brother-in-law  retorted.  "  And  the  rose-grower 
followed, —  and  all  the  ladies  of  the  parish  rushed 
to  join." 

"  Then  he  was  a  regular  attendant,  I  expect,"  said 
Mr.  Shepherd,  quietly  firm. 

"Attendant?  —  ah, —  perfectly  regular,  yes.  It 
was  no  credit  to  him,"  the  doctor  added  hastily. 
"  He  simply  hadn't  the  originality  to  be  otherwise." 

There  ensued  an  interval,  during  which  the  Rector 
smoked,  and  pondered  in  silence,  with  an  occasional 
shake  of  his  lion-head.  He  was  subtracting  Claude 
from  his  story,  as  it  were,  and  found  the  mathe- 
matical result,  though  curious  in  its  way,  suggestive 
of  other  and  melancholy  things  which  had  occurred 


86  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

during  his  long  experience.  He  had  not  the  remotest 
inkling  at  this  stage  of  any  intention  on  Claude's  part 
beyond  that  of  entertaining  them,  in  which  he 
generally  succeeded.  Peacock,  with  the  ghosts  of 
the  former  conversation,  had  long  since  passed  from 
his  mind.  The  Rector  was  an  excessively  easy 
person  to  mislead,  as  a  pair  of  young  Ashwins, 
twenty-five  years  previously,  had  discovered.  One 
had  but  to  tempt  him  into  the  by-way  of  one  of  his 
private  interests, —  and  he  was  a  man  of  many 
harmless  cranks  and  investigations, —  for  him  to 
ignore  all  other  logical  conclusions  or  sly  suggestions 
that  might  naturally  be  derived  from  the  dialogue. 
Bob  Brading  alone,  by  the  light  in  the  narrator's 
eye,  suspected  that  some  seed  of  unsown  diversion 
still  remained;  and  Bob  was  far  too  respectful  to 
his  seniors  to  ask  for  it.  He  followed  his  own  in- 
genuous reflections  on  the  case  instead. 

"Was  there  a  girl  in  the  business*?"  he  asked 
abruptly. 

The  host  rose,  and  Dr.  Ashwin  too,  before  he 
answered.  Then  he  said  in  his  most  expressionless 
tone  — 

"  Probably :  but  I  did  not  press  him." 

Nor  did  he  even  glance  at  Robert  in  replying; 
for,  as  eventually  appeared  in  intimate  conversation 
with  Mr.  Gibbs,  he  had  taken  him  in,  and  Margery, 
and  their  whole  situation,  with  its  simple  problem 


GLASSWELL  87 

of  honourable  scruple  on  the  one  side,  and  intense 
natural  shyness  on  the  other,  in  the  ten  minutes, 
while  he  had  both  beneath  his  eyes  before  the  meal. 

Charles  denied  himself  the  men's  time-honoured 
privilege  in  vain:  the  ladies  obviously  did  not  want 
him.  He  sulked  for  at  least  an  hour  down  by  the 
peas,  smoking  and  peering  through  the  laurel  hedge 
at  intervals,  before  he  spied,  and  seized  upon  his 
opportunity. 

All  that  time.  Miss  Ashwin  had  been  planted  on 
a  cushion  at  Miss  Lennox's  feet,  beneath  the  mul- 
berry on  the  lawn,  where,  clasping  her  knees,  she 
had  been  listening  sweetly  to  Mrs.  Gibbs'  opinions, 
in  the  original  version,  and  second-hand  through  the 
mouth  of  her  friend.  Miss  Lennox  spoke  the  more 
freely,  but  Violet,  an  expert  in  original  documents, 
recognised  the  authority  very  well,  though  she 
directed  her  answers  tactfully  to  Miss  Lennox 
every  time.  She  looked  very  pretty  and  very 
tranquil  to  Charles'  attentive  eye,  whenever  he 
caught  a  glimpse  of  her  through  the  hedge;  and  he 
had  every  reason  to  hope  that  the  grotesque  idea  of 
her  joining  Miss  Lennox  in  trade  had  been  utterly 
routed,  long  before  the  close  of  the  conversation. 

"  I  hope  that  old  female  has  not  been  boring 
you,"  he  said,  when  he  finally  dislodged  her,  and 
steered  their  course  towards  the   rose-garden;   for 


88  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

showing  Miss  Ashwin  the  roses  had  been  his  able 
excuse. 

*'  Well,  you  see,"  said  Violet,  holding  her  hair  with 
both  hands  in  the  breeze,  "  that's  what  I  came  down 
for." 

"To  be  bored?" 

"  Mr.  Shovell  I  To  find  out  all  I  possibly  could 
about  Miss  Lennox,  and  her  ideas:  and  to  let  her 
make  what  she  could  of  me." 

"  Well,  I  should  say  she'll  use  you  to  the  v^orst 
possible  advantage,"  said  Charles.  "  Look  at  her 
get-up." 

"  I  did,  of  course;  but  that's  not  a  real  sticking- 
place.  Mother  is  the  real  sticking-place,  as  your 
mother  very  soon  found  out.  Of  course.  Father  has 
given  me  his  word  to  do  what  he  can;  but  I  really 
think,"  said  Violet,  holding  her  hair  and  looking 
worried,  "  Mother  and  Miss  Lennox  had  better  not 
meet.    They  are  such  different  types,  you  know." 

"  Won't  they  have  to  meet*?  "  said  Charles. 

"  Well,  there's  a  fighting  chance,  as  Father  would 
say,  that  Mother  may  wash  her  hands  of  me." 

"  Would  he  say  that? "  said  Charles,  rather 
staggered. 

"  No,  no.  Fighting  chance  is  Father,  Mr.  Shovell ; 
all  the  rest  of  it  is  me.  And  I,"  added  Violet  gently, 
"  would  not  have  said  it  to  anyone  but  you." 

Charles  glowed.    Here  was  the  bond  he  had  missed 


GLASSWELL  89 

all  day  I  He  came  closer  to  her  promptly,  and  felt 
all  her  original  glamour  revive. 

"  It  is  easy  to  get  vulgar  in  one's  thoughts  about 
some  people,"  pursued  Violet.  "  But  when  they  are 
relations,  you  have  to  watch  your  words.  I  get  so 
tired  of  watching  eternally, —  my  soul  is  craving  for 
Battersea.    Oh,  I  hope  she  will  let  me  go  I  " 

The  end  was  childish,  but  as  characteristic  as  the 
elaboration  of  the  rest;  and  what  was  more  im- 
portant, she  seized  Charles'  arm.  Charles  enjoyed 
this,  walking  on  air,  until  they  reached  the  rose- 
garden;  when  she  dropped  her  hand  with  the  same 
ease  that  she  had  shown  in  placing  it  there,  and 
began  to  caress  the  roses. 

"  Shut  your  eyes  tight,"  Charles  advised,  as  she 
laid  her  cheek  against  the  cool  curved  petals, — 
"  breathe  hard,  and  think  of  Battersea." 

"  I  am  thinking,"  she  assured  him.  "  Will  you 
recommend  me,  Mr.  Shovell,  and  visit  me  some- 
times?   I  am  afraid  I  shall  be  rather  a  fixture." 

"  It  won't  be  every  day,  I  suppose,"  said  Charles, 
absently  entranced  by  her  proceedings.  He  thought 
he  had  never  seen  anything  so  delicate  as  her  manner 
of  flirtation  with  the  flowers.  It  was  hard  to  believe 
that  some  of  it  was  not  meant  for  him;  and  yet, 
granted  a  Londoner  in  the  country,  one  could  not  be 
sure.     One  never  could  be  sure,  with  Miss  Ashwin. 

"  Except  Sunday,"  Violet  informed  him,   "  and 


90  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

Saturday  afternoon.  Miss  Lennox's  hours  are  very 
kind  ones,  nine  to  seven  with  lunch  and  tea  intervals. 
I  made  her  give  me  the  girls'  time-table  exactly, 
because  vagueness  in  a  matter  like  that  is  nonsense, 
after  all." 

"  But "  Charles  was  staggered  anew.    "  You 

mean  to  say  your  mother's  not  bound  to  mind'?  " 

"  Would  yours?  "  said  Violet  sweetly. 

"  Of  course  not,"  countered  Charles.  "  I'm  im- 
portant to  mine,  worse  luck."  He  added  illogically, 
—  "  And  you  are  of  course  a  great  deal  more  im- 
portant than  you  will  admit." 

"  No,"  said  Violet.  "  Not  this  year,  I  mean.  After 
next  March,  Mother  will  have  to  notice  me  a  little. 
This  spring,  she  simply  put  me  through  my  paces  at 
Mentone,  and  I  have  reason  to  hope  she  was 
satisfied."  She  sat  down  on  the  sun-warmed  bank 
of  the  tennis-court,  and  considered  at  leisure, 
clasping  her  knees.  "  Mother,"  she  said,  "  is  coming 
home  by  Paris,  and  we  all  know  what  that  means. 
For  the  first  few  days  she  will  dazzle  us  terribly,  and 
we  shall  have  all  we  can  do  to  withstand  her.  But 
Father  is  a  business  man, —  and  that  means  a  man 
of  honour,  doesn't  it?  —  so  he  will  catch  Mother  at 
odd  times.  Father's  resources,  a  la  rigueur^  are  for- 
tunately inexhaustible;  so  I  can  only  trust  Mother 
will  ultimately  decide  to  ignore  me,  and  tell  her 
friends  at  tea  that  I  am  in  the  country." 


GLASSWELL  91 

"  But  do  you  mean  you  will  have  no  holidays'?  " 
persisted  Charles,  realising  the  thing  slowly,  as  he 
leant  against  a  pillar  of  the  pergola. 

"  Very  generous  ones,"  said  Violet  warmly. 
"  Miss  Lennox  gives  fifteen  days  in  August  regularly, 
turn  about,  of  course ;  and  a  week  at  Christmas,  and 
an  occasional  week-end.  The  weak-end  sounds  like 
weakness,  don't  you  think'?  "  She  shot  a  look  at 
Charles  side-long,  of  which  Charles  was  just  too  late 
to  catch  the  expression. 

"  But  look  here,"  he  said  indignantly.  "  Aren't 
you  putting  money  into  it?  "    He  turned  to  face  her. 

"  Father  will  insist, —  and  manage  it  probably, 
said  Violet.  "  I  am  afraid  he  may  have  a  bother 
with  her.  Miss  Lennox  is  a  person  to  be  rather  silly 
about  money,  I  should  say, —  I  mean,  when  she  likes 
the  people.  I  ought  to  have  warned  Father  not  to 
be  too  fascinating,  if  I  had  thought  of  it.  .  .  . 
However,  I  gather  Miss  Eccles  keeps  Miss  Lennox 
in  order,  in  that  and  other  things.  I  have  a  certain 
faith  in  our  Miss  Eccles,  Mr.  Shovell." 

"  I  expect  she  is  interesting,"  said  Charles  sarcas- 
tically. 

"  I  am  sure  she  is,"  said  Violet.  "  And  she  must 
not  go,  because  we  cannot  spare  her.  You  see,  Miss 
Lennox  calls  her  smart,  and  says  she  is  a  good  girl  at 
the  core,  but  attracts  the  wrong  kind  of  customers; 
by  which  Miss  Lennox  means  the  other  kind.    And 


92  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

her  mother  drinks,  poor  dear,  and  Miss  Lennox 
wants  to  persuade  them  to  live  in  a  Garden  City. 
Yes,"  said  Violet,  as  Charles  ejaculated,  "  it  seemed 
to  me  painfully  mal  a  propos^  but  I  could  not  tell  her 
so.  Her  intentions  are  really  all  so  excellent.  As  it 
is.  Miss  Eccles  lives  at  Brixton,  wherever  that  is, — 
and  I  am  longing  to  make  her  acquaintaince." 

"  And  her  mother's*?  "  said  Charles. 

"  She  may  be  fond  of  her  all  the  same,"  said  Violet, 
blushing  faintly.  She  paused  a  moment.  "  I  wish 
Mother  drank, —  but  she  only  dazzles.  It  is  so  much 
more  dangerous  to  the  community." 

"  That's  overdoing  it,"  thought  Charles.  He  was 
capable  to-day  of  noting  Violet's  faults,  and  he 
thought  she  put  it  on  a  little,"  on  the  subject  of  her 
mother.  The  last  speech,  at  least,  must  have  been 
composed  in  advance,  and  intended  to  crumple  him. 
He  refused  to  be  crumpled,  and  preserved  a  superior 
line. 

He  said, —  looking  at  the  view  with  his  far- 
sighted  eyes,  and  looking  extremely  handsome  and 
sulky, —  "  I  believe  the  old  female  discouraged  you 
thoroughly,  only  you  won't  admit  it." 

"Out  of —  what?"  smiled  Violet. 

"  Oh,  feminine  contumaciousness.  I  am  sure  your 
governor  didn't  care  for  it,  anyhow." 

"  So  am  I,"  said  Violet.  "  I  shall  have  to  talk  to 
my  governor  again.    He  spoke  in  his  clicking  tone 


GLASSWELL  93 

several  times,  and  his  sleepwalking  once,  and  I  could 
see  Miss  Lennox's  back  hair  trembling.  From  now 
till  Tuesday,  Mr.  Shovell,  I  shall  enter  on  campaigns. 
Won't  you  even  wish  me  joy  of  them*?  " 

"  Oh,  I  suppose  so,"  said  Charles. 

But  he  felt  rude  and  dissatisfied;  and  the  occa- 
sional glimpse  of  Violet's  grey  eyes,  which,  charming 
as  they  were,  had  a  glimmer  of  mischief  at  moments, 
did  not  add  to  his  general  contentment. 

She  was  not  quite  what  he  had  thought  her.  He 
could  not  longer  conceal  the  sad  fact  from  himself. 
Not  content  to  remain  his  private  cynosure,  a  grace- 
fully-shrouded mystery,  she  pushed  through  the 
clouds  he  had  provided,  and  challenged  his  judg- 
ment in  the  paths  of  common  life.  This  was  rash  of 
her.  Yet  he  was  sure,  still,  that  he  knew  her  better 
than  her  proceedings  suggested  she  knew  herself. 
He  could  have  warned  her  that  in  this  pursuit  she 
was  daring  a  fate,  the  fate  of  her  own  personality, 
that  must  ultimately  recoil  upon  her  head.  She 
was  young,  of  course !  —  and  very  prettily  impulsive, 
as  the  mere  man  in  Charles  admitted;  but  his  saner 
discernment  assured  him,  for  his  consolation,  that 
she  could  not  possibly  keep  it  up.  The  7nal  a  propos 
of  the  smart  forewoman  to  Miss  Lennox,  or  of  her 
red-nosed  mother  to  a  Garden  City,  was  not  more 
striking,  to  Charles'  mind,  than  the  blank  in- 
appropriateness  of  Violet  Ashwin  to  all  or  either. 


94  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

Long  before  that  instructive  walk  was  over, —  and 
they  wandered  for  a  considerable  period,  idly- 
talking,  about  the  grounds, —  Charles,  skilled  in 
quiet  observation  and  analysis  of  Nature's  diverse 
phenomena,  had  Violet's  character  by  heart,  as  his 
chronicler  need  not  say. 

It  is  just  possible  that  Dr.  Ashwin's  daughter  had 
his  as  well. 


VIII 

THE  SCHEMER 


He  was  convinced  that  everybody  saw  as  he  did, 
with  the  exception  of  the  wilful  heroine. 

Charles  easily  saw  things  as  he  wished  to  see  them ; 
and  when  the  wandering  couples  re-united,  to  take 
early  tea  on  the  loggia  in  front  of  the  garden  entrance 
to  the  house,  he  was  soon  able  to  mark  a  protest  in 
every  attitude  —  even  in  that  of  Bob  Brading,  who 
had  probably  been  persuading  Margery  to  take  a 
reasonable  view  of  her  cousin's  caprices,  during  their 
prolonged  inspection  of  the  fowl-run  in  the  field. 
Dr.  Ashwin  had  also  been  dragged  round  the  estate 
by  the  enthusiast,  his  host,  but  Charles  thought  it 
highly  improbable  that  their  conversation  had  been 
of  peas  exclusively.  However  it  may  have  been,  the 
bar  on  Claude's  brow  had  disappeared;  and  though 
his  hay- fever  was  worse  than  ever,  that  mental  fever, 
which  the  Rector  minded  for  him  more,  had  abated 
under  the  Glasswell  influences.  He  looked,  to  those 
who  remembered,  more  like  old  days. 

Mr.  Shepherd  had  gone  about  his  duties  to  church, 
and  Maud  to  hers  among  the  school-children;  but 


96  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

Mrs.  Gibbs  and  Miss  Lennox,  left  in  close  confabu- 
lation under  the  mulberry-tree,  had  threshed  out 
everybody's  affairs  to  admiration,  and  could  greet 
the  re-assembling  family,  from  their  upper  moral 
level,  with  a  benignant  smile. 

"  He's  a  hopeless  townee,"  the  Rector  was  saying, 
as  he  arrived  upon  the  scene.  "  He  thinks  nothing 
of  my  strawberry-pots,  and  he  sneezes  —  literally  — 
at  my  hay." 

"  Did  Peacock  take  you  through  the  greenhouse?  '* 
said  the  hostess,  as  she  handed  the  doctor  his  tea. 

"  Dear  me,  we  forgot  Peacock,"  said  the  Rector; 
and  the  family  laughed  unkindly.  Though  the 
Rector  and  his  gardener  were  the  best  of  friends,  a 
fierce  rivalry  was  supposed,  by  the  disrespectful,  to 
exist. 

"  It  would  have  been  useless,  anyhow,"  Charles  in- 
formed him.  "  Violet  —  ah.  Miss  Ashwin  —  and  I 
called  at  the  Vane-Peacock  cottage  in  passing,  but 
the  V-P  was  out,  so  we  left  a  card." 

"  My  card,"  said  Violet. 

"  He  had  gone  to  church,"  said  Charles,  ''  we 
judged  acutely,  since  his  best  hat  was  not  there." 

"I  judged,"  said  Violet. 

"  Well,  I  judged  just  after  you,"  said  Charles. 

"  Church?  "  said  Robert  Brading,  with  a  singular 
intonation.  Looking  round,  his  eye  happened  to 
catch  Dr.  Ashwin's,  which  was  half-obscured  by  his 


GLASSWELL  97 

pocket-handkerchief,  and  he  decided  not  to  press  the 
point  for  the  moment.  He  remained  awakened  and 
attentive,  however.  Charles,  having  settled  Violet, 
ran  on. 

"  When  the  governor  had  ascertained,  in  a  lengthy 
interview,  that  the  V-P's  attitude  to  pea-sticks  was 
all  that  could  be  desired,  he  had  an  afterthought, 
turned  back,  and  said  he  supposed  he  was  a  Church- 
man. Only  if  the  V-P,  with  his  ineffable  good- 
breeding,  had  replied  that  his  family  had  been 
Parsees  for  generations,  the  governor  would  have 
engaged  him  just  the  same." 

"  All  gardeners  are  Parsees,  I  think,"  murmured 
Violet,  who,  since  Charles  was  occupied,  was  hand- 
ing tea. 

"  Don't  be  ridiculous,  Charles,"  said  his  mother, 
*'  and  don't  let  Violet  serve  you  like  that.  Of 
course,"  she  proceeded,  turning  to  the  doctor,  "  we 
should  not  think  of  unduly  influencing  anybody ;  but 
if  the  man's  respectable,  and  a  regular  attendant,  it's 
all  to  the  good,  I  say." 

"  Certainly,"  said  Claude,  gazing  fixedly  at  his  tea. 
He  waited,  expecting  a  comment  from  his  brother- 
in-law  on  the  subject  of  his  handsome  gardener's 
regular  attendance,  but  none  came.  The  Rector,  in 
a  beehive  chair,  was  looking  absently  benevolent, 
and  thinking,  no  doubt,  of  Peacock's  impeccable  atti- 
tude towards  garden  produce. 


98  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

"  I  should  have  liked  terribly  to  talk  to  him,"  said 
Violet  plaintively.     "  And  to  look  at  him  too." 

"  Why  deprive  others'?  "  said  Claude,  shifting  his 
glance  on  her  an  instant.  "  You  came  here  to  be 
talked  to,  and  to  be  looked  at, —  or  so  I  understood." 

"  No,  no,"  said  the  Rector  quickly,  awaking  at  the 
tone.  "Let  her  be,  Claude;  Miss,  under  my  roof, 
chooses  her  own  company." 

Violet's  faint  colour  had  risen,  but  her  attentive 
eyes,  undismayed,  moved  from  her  father  to  her 
uncle's  kind  face.  It  needed  no  effort,  for  one  of  her 
blood,  to  read  all  that  was  there,  indeed.  She  swept 
it  up,  and  acted  without  hesitation.  Passing  across 
she  sank  down  beside  him  upon  the  beehive  chair. 

"  I  sat  between  Aunt  Henrietta  and  Miss  Lennox 
for  more  than  an  hour,"  she  informed  him,  "  and 
they  investigated  me  exhaustively.  Aunt  Henrietta 
shook  her  head  rather  the  most,  but  I  have  reason 
to  hope  they  have  not  ploughed  me  utterly, —  oh, 
mercy,  plucked^  I  mean.  But  I  thought  they  needed 
leisure  to  talk  me  over  before  they  settled,  do  you 
see'?    So  I  went  a  walk  with  Charles." 

The  speech  was  delivered  in  her  naturally  soft 
tone,  but  it  reached  the  ears  of  the  entire  company. 
Some  quality  in  her  neat  detached  utterance 
always  ensured  attention,  and  lent  importance,  as  it 
were,  to  her  easy  use  of  the  name.  Mrs.  Gibbs  was 
taken  unaware,  and  her  eyes  fell  consciously.     She 


GLASSWELL  99 

was  still  criticising  Violet  as  a  stranger,  and  was  not 
prepared  to  be  adopted  so  readily,  or  wooed  in  such  a 
wistful  little  tone.  She  and  Lois  had  reached  the 
conclusion, —  she  leading, —  that  this  stylishly  bred 
girl  was  too  ornamental  to  be  profound.  Violet's 
manner  was  always  against  her  with  that  large 
utilitarian  section  of  the  community  who  suspect 
decoration  of  concealing  deficiency,  and  have  no 
inkling  of  that  native  need,  appertaining  to  the 
artistic,  for  finishing  all  things,  even  manners  and 
movements,  to  the  last  tolerable  degree.  Violet  was 
self-conscious :  and  self-consciousness  is  to  be  pitied, 
by  this  standard,  only  when  the  results  are  unsuccess- 
ful. When  they  are  striking  or  original,  it  is  con- 
demned. And  a  pose  of  whatever  sort  implies  under- 
lying instability. 

Now,  challenged  by  the  girl  herself,  in  the  very 
manner  they  had  been  disparaging,  they  were  both 
evidently  disturbed,  and  had  to  look  to  their 
defences.  Miss  Lennox,  blushing  but  dutiful,  took 
the  word. 

"  We  never  had  a  doubt,  my  dear,"  she  said,  "  that 
you  would  do  your  best:  or  indeed,  that  your  best 
is  very  good.  The  question  is  really,  if  it  is  not 
too  good, —  I  mean,  considering  all  our  circum- 
stances. I  believe," — she  smiled  timidly  in  Dr. 
Ashwin's  direction, —  "  I  believe  your  father  is  of  my 
opinion,  kind  though  he  is  about  it,  really." 


loo  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

Violet's  father  was  debarred  from  prompt  reply 
by  a  crisis  of  his  disease :  his  daughter  took  an  unfair 
advantage  of  him. 

"  Father  thinks  as  I  do,"  she  said  calmly.  "  Or  at 
least,  he  will  in  an  hour's  time.  You  must  make 
allowances  for  him,  Miss  Lennox.  He  is  naturally 
low-spirited  to-day,  owing  to  the  hay  and  other 
causes " 

"  Look  here, —  I  won't  have  it,"  Claude  was  heard 
to  articulate. 

"  He  is  almost  an  invalid,"  pursued  Violet,  gather- 
ing intensity,  "  and  I  was  perfectly  selfish  to  drag 
him  down  in  all  this  dust.  I  am  selfish, —  born  so, — 
but  he  will  feel  better  as  soon  as  we  enter  the  suburbs; 
and  by  the  time  we  reach  Harley  Street  he  will  be 
completely  quite  himself." 

"  And  in  your  hands  completely  quite,"  said  Mr. 
Gibbs.  "Well,  well,  Claude;  we  all  fall  a  victim 
to  'em,  sooner  or  later." 

In  his  heart,  turning  over  his  late  conversation 
with  the  victim  of  feminine  guile,  he  thanked  Provi- 
dence that  Claude,  in  the  prolonged  and  profound 
disillusion  of  his  married  life,  had  this  child  as 
consolation.  Eveleen  was  grand,  no  doubt,  con- 
sidered as  a  social  institution;  but  she  was  no  wife 
for  a  man  who  had  any  claim  to  heart.  That  heart, 
as  soon  as  conquered,  she  had  starved  assiduously, 
and  had  come  as  near  as  woman  can  to  wrecking  that 


GLASSWELL  ioi 

inner  life,  of  which  Mr.  Gibbs  thought  more  than 
of  the  outer,  by  nature  not  profession.  Margaret's 
brother  had  escaped  the  sandy  shoals  of  bitterness, 
he  perceived,  by  one  of  those  tacks  of  which  a 
supple  mind  is  capable;  he  was  still  exploring  life 
with  untired  curiosity,  but  the  skies,  as  it  were,  were 
changed;  and  it  was  that  long  losing  battle  for  his 
ideals,  in  Eveleen's  company,  that  had  indubitably 
changed  them.  He  had  abandoned  the  contest,  con- 
quered creditably,  and  now  sought  the  ideal  else- 
where :  groped  for  it,  the  Rector  would  have  said,  if 
anyone  could  have  connected  the  idea  of  groping  with 
such  as  Claude.  One  of  his  rescued  hopes  in  that 
threatened  catastrophe  he  had  pinned  to  Violet ;  and 
though  it  was  a  slight  one,  Mr.  Gibbs  seemed  to  see 
his  cautious  eye  watching  it  from  time  to  time.  She 
was  not  a  son;  but  she  was  a  girl  of  singular  spirit. 
The  spirit  that  died  so  hard  in  the  Ashwins  was 
revived,  as  it  were,  in  her.  She  appeared  subtle, 
but  it  was  no  more  than  a  trick  of  her  femininity;  for 
the  Rector,  who  had  the  natural  eye  for  character  it 
was  his  wife's  pride  to  have  acquired,  believed  her  to 
be  straight. 

Her  little  speech  from  his  chair,  uttered  fearlessly 
before  her  differing  critics,  was  a  thrust  straight  for 
the  mark,  and  before  he  had  time  to  criticise,  he  ap- 
plauded it.  Withal,  it  was  kind, —  like  the  Ashwins 
again, —  a  personal  kindness  to  him;  for  Violet  had 


iDLi  A  LAPV  OF  LEISURE 

penetrated  his  anxiety  that  his  wife  should  be  drawn 
within  the  family  ring,  and  had  had  the  aptitude  to 
guess  that  she,  her  mother's  representative,  must 
accomplish  it.  Till  she  spoke,  the  Rector  had  hardly 
known  his  own  desire.  It  was  at  once  acute  and 
sweet,  and,  remembering  Margaret,  he  could  have 
embraced  her  in  acknowledgment  of  an  effort  so 
worthy  of  her  origin.  That  it  had  been  an  effort  he 
did  not  doubt, —  he  had  been  too  near  her  when  she 
spoke,  and  had  seen  her  slight  hand  clench  upon 
the  chair.  Such  as  Violet,  it  may  be  mentioned,  are 
not  allowed  to  be  shy ;  but  she  was  shy,  as  her  father 
was;  and  the  Rector,  happily  exempt  himself  from 
that  curse  of  our  society,  did  full  justice  to  her  while 
his  wife  was  doing  half.  He  could  only  appeal  to 
that  wife  with  his  eyes  to  clinch  the  situation,  and 
take  her  accustomed  lead. 

"There  is  nothing  for  it,"  said  Mrs.  Gibbs, 
pleasantly  enough,  "but  for  Violet  to  try  in  the 
morning  for  a  day  or  two,  if  her  mother  approves, 
and  see  how  she  gets  on." 

The  Rector's  face  cleared.  "  How's  that,  miss^  " 
he  said. 

"  Almost  perfect,"  said  Violet  tranquilly.  "  Per- 
fect, if  the  mornings  I  chose  had  afternoons  attached, 
starting  from  Tuesday  next  at  nine  o'clock,  and 
if  Miss  Eccles  would  spare  one  hour  of  her  valuable 
time  to  give  me  a  lesson  in  machining." 


GLASSWELL  103 

Dr.  Ashwin's  features  twisted,  and  Miss  Lennox 
cleared  her  throat.  Charles  made  a  carefully  audible 
sound  of  disgust.  The  Rector,  having  looked  round 
him,  expressed  the  general  feeling. 

"  We  can't  think  of  you  as  a  machine-maiden," 
he  told  her.    "  An  expensive  handmaid,  if  you  like." 

"  How  —  wonderfully  —  clever^"  said  Violet, 
dwelling  upon  him  with  large  eyes.  "  Was  that  what 
you  had  meant*?  "    She  turned  about. 

"  I  was  thinking  it  out,"  said  Claude.  "  I  should 
have  said  it  presently."  He  produced  his  little 
engagement-book,  and  toyed  with  it  suggestively. 
"  Tuesday  next  is  the  Eton  match,"  he  said.  "  Had 
you  not  promised  the  Blairs  to  go  down?  " 

"Father  dear,  how  feeble,"  said  Violet,  in  a 
piteous  tone.  "  Of  course  I  shall  explain  to  Lady 
Hilda,  this  evening,  in  a  note." 

"How*?"  said  nearly  everybody.  They  seemed 
quite  relieved  to  concentrate  forces  upon  a  common 
point. 

"  How  I  shall  explain?  "  Violet  looked  at  them 
innocently,  one  by  one.  "  Well,  let  me  see:  I  shall 
begin,  dearest  Lady  Hilda,  rather  large, —  I  am 
hideously  sorry  to  be  a  broken  reed,  but,  as  I  am 
sure  you  understand,  my  work  claims  quite  all  my 
time.  And,  if  it  was  not  for  the  hay.  Father  might 
replace  me, —  since  I  happen  to  know  he  has  marked 
it  carefully  in  his  horrid  little  book.     And  then  a 


104  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

little  more  imbecility,  and  then  that  our  hearts  will 
be  with  the  dear  school  always.  And  a  squirly  sig- 
nature,—  and  Lady  Hilda  will  think  it  quite  all 
right,  because  it  is  just  the  kind  of  thing  she 
would  have  written  herself,  if  she  had  been  in  my 
position." 

"  Or  if  she  hadn't,"  said  the  Rector. 

"  I  think,"  said  Violet,  "  that  would  be  circum- 
stantial enough  not  to  be  classed  as  a  mere  excuse." 

"  Good  Lord, —  she  is  shattering."  Mr.  Gibbs 
collapsed  in  his  chair  dramatically.  "  Then  you 
think  your  smart  friends  will  give  you  up  without  a 
struggle,  do  you?  "  he  enquired,  curling  a  tendril  of 
her  hair. 

"  Of  course  I  do,"  said  Violet.  "  I  am  only  a  girl 
to  Lady  Hilda,  and  people  of  her  nature."  She 
thought  a  little.  "  Yes:  I  am  probably  a  '  present- 
able extra  girl,'  when  she  is  making  up  lists  with 
Mr.  Blair,  since  Mother's  dressmaker  is  the  same  as 
hers.  Father,  I  am  tolerably  certain,  is  a  presentable 
extra  man.  Several  people  who  live  near  Windsor 
are  like  that  —  I  am  sure  the  poor  King  can't  help 
it " 

"  Stop  her,"  said  Claude  definitely,  putting  away 
his  handkerchief  and  sitting  up,  "  and  order  the  car. 
On  the  subject  of  the  Monarchy,  she  is  more  than  I 
can  bear,  in  my  invalided  condition.  It  is  as  much 
as  my  position  is  worth  to  listen  to  it,  really  • " 


GLASSWELL  105 

"  She  was  only  pitying  him,  Uncle  Claude," 
laughed  Margery. 

"  That  is  the  form  her  loyalty  takes.  She  will  be 
pitying  him  audibly  the  day  she  is  presented, 
probably " 

"  I  shall,  indeed,"  said  Violet,  with  feeling.  "  All 
those  hours,  poor  man, —  and  such  quantities  of 
plainish  girls." 

"  Well,  pity  me  for  a  change,"  said  the  doctor, 
rising.  "  Because  unless  we  get  off  within  nine 
minutes,  and  you  begin  your  last  words  instantly,  I 
shall  have  no  time  to  dress " 

"  And  will  fail  even  to  be  presentable,"  said  the 
Rector.  "Lord,  lord:  how  thankful  I  am  that  I 
have  not  to  live  up  to  your  standards." 

"  The  Church  are  always  presentable,"  Violet 
consoled  him.  "  All  they  have  to  do,  is  to  look 
benignant.  You  could  walk  into  a  royal  death-bed 
just  as  you  are, —  couldn't  he,  Aunt  Henrietta?  Or 
with  just  a  friendly  hand  to  put  your  tie  straight." 

"  I  should  not  wonder,"  said  Mrs.  Gibbs,  rather 
dismayed  to  be  appealed  to  on  such  a  subject;  for 
conscientious  as  she  was,  neither  her  imagination  nor 
her  humour  were  equal  to  a  sudden  stretch,  more 
especially  on  Sunday  afternoon.  She  rather  won- 
dered that  Arthur  tolerated  such  frivolities;  but 
Arthur's  brow  was  still  bland,  and  his  eyes  on  the 
girl   rather  thoughtful.     He  seemed  to  be  seeing 


io6  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

more  in  her  than  Mrs.  Gibbs'  trained  eye  could  see; 
but  then  it  was  true,  girls  of  Violet's  stamp  had  not 
often  stepped  her  way.  She  supposed, —  her  imagi- 
nation was  just  equal  to  it, —  that  the  first  Margaret 
had  been  something  like  that;  but  if  it  was  so,  she 
could  not  avoid  thankfulness  that  "  the  girls," —  her 
girls, —  resembled  Margaret  so  little. 


IX 

THE  VISIT  CONCLUDES 

"  She  seems  clever,"  said  Mrs.  Gibbs  to  Violet's 
father  when,  summoned  by  the  panting  of  the  car, 
the  party  moved  at  last  towards  the  gate.  "  Have 
you  never  thought  of  sending  her  to  college*?  Col- 
lege life  does  so  much  for  girls." 

"  So  they  tell  me,"  he  replied.  He  found  it  hard 
to  talk  to  Mrs.  Gibbs,  but  screwed  out  phrases  con- 
scientiously. "  I  remember  my  sister  enjoyed  Newn- 
ham.  That  was  your  college  also,  was  it  not^  I 
went  to  see  her  once." 

"  Only  once*?  Surely  you  were  up  at  the  same 
time*?" 

"  Equally  up,"  he  said  dryly.  "  I'd  have  flown  to 
her  if  I  could."  He  added  for  her  enlightenment. 
"  The  North  Western  service  was  no  joke  in  those 
days." 

"  Oh,  Oxford,"  said  Mrs.  Gibbs,  still  superior. 
"  But  —  science  at  Oxford  —  I  thought " 

"  I  didn't  read  science,"  he  inserted.  Then,  re- 
marking that  he  had  put  her  out  more  than  he 
intended,  he  harked  back  in  a  hurry  to  the  former 


io8  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

point.  "  I  don't  know  much  of  the  young  person, 
naturally,"  he  said.  "  But  don't  you  consider, 
sometimes,  that  life  in  the  crowd  rather  swamps 
personality?  Especially  at  that  age?  It  is  true," 
he  added  in  haste,  "  Margaret  recovered  hers  later 
on;  but  she  was  of  a  firmer  constitution  altogether." 

"  Do  you  think  Violet  not  strong,  then?  "  said  his 
hostess  presently.  His  rapid  tacking  in  dialogue 
puzzled  her,  as  it  had  puzzled  many  before.  He  was 
simply  feeling  for  her  level,  had  she  known. 

"  There  is  room  for  anxiety,"  he  answered 
evasively,  his  brow  showing  the  bar.  As  a  rather 
heavy  silence  fell  between  them,  he  made  a  new 
eifort,  and  said, —  "  Eveleen  calls  me  fussy," —  and 
then  gave  her  a  single  glance  of  his  dark  eye  that 
seemed  appealing. 

Now,  Mrs.  Gibbs  could  naturally  not  imagine  that 
a  married  physician,  with  ten  to  twelve  letters  after 
his  name,  could  appeal  to  her  on  the  subject  of  the 
bodily  health  of  his  own  offspring, —  in  which  we 
may  perhaps  admit  that  she  betrayed  her  ignorance 
of  men  and  doctors.  The  result  was  that  the  short 
interview  left  her  confirmed  in  her  impression  of  the 
girl's  instability;  or,  as  she  put  it  impressively  to 
her  husband  in  their  room  that  night, —  that  the 
curse  of  Reuben  shadowed  her. 

"  But  the  Ashwins  do  excel,  my  dear,"  expostu- 
lated the  Rector.     "  That  is  just  where  they  disturb 


GLASSWELL  109 

all  application  of  Biblical  judgments.  This  one 
excelled  the  lot  of  us  to-day.  Did  you  observe,  the 
minx  came  out  top  in  the  end,  with  actually  the 
promise  of  a  '  little  note '  from  Miss  Lennox  to- 
night? Now,  I  am  sure  Miss  Lennox  would  never 
have  committed  herself  as  far  as  that  by  your 
advice.  Though  she  is  unbusiness-like  from  birth, 
she  must  know  the  force  of  such  engagements.  And 
if  I  know  anything  of  the  other  side,  the  money 
will  change  hands  before  the  week's  out.  'A  long 
telegram  to  Mother '  seems  the  only  necessary 
formality, —  and  that  is  formality  simply." 

"  I  can't  countenance  it,  really,"  said  Mrs.  Gibbs, 
with  years  of  anxious  responsibility  for  others  mak- 
ing lines  in  her  brow. 

"  Nor  can  I,  nor  Claude, —  nor  Charles,  to  judge 
by  appearances.  But  I  imagine  Miss  will  dispense 
with  all  our  countenances,  if  necessary." 

"  She  is  wilful,"  said  Mrs.  Gibbs.  "  Spoilt  girls 
are  often  that." 

"  By  the  way,"  said  the  Rector,  to  turn  the  sub- 
ject, "  what  is  her  position  with  Charles,  do  you 
suppose*?  " 

"  I  suppose  he  admires  her,"  said  Mrs.  Gibbs. 
"  She  is  not  the  first." 

"Was  Margery  the  next  before*?"  asked  the 
Rector,  with  some  natural  anxiety. 

"  No,"  said  Charles'  mother.     "  I  believe  we  can 


no  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

congratulate  Margery  on  her  total  escape.  She  in- 
dulges the  boy  absurdly,  that  is  all.  However,"  she 
added  soon,  "  we  must  try  to  prevent  the  girls  from 
making  a  joke  of  his  attachment  to  Violet,  for  that 
is  the  way  to  turn  him  serious.  I  happen  to  know 
Charles." 

"  I  wouldn't  dispute  your  knowledge  of  him,"  said 
the  Rector.  "  But  I  think  for  that  very  reason  you 
are  hard  on  him  sometimes.  As  I  am  still  a  mere 
external  acquaintance,  I  like  the  boy." 

His  wife  answered  nothing,  but  her  face  in  the 
glass  wore  its  heaviest  lines. 

"  My  dear,"  said  the  Rector,  "  it  simply  does  not 
do  to  take  some  kinds  of  young  men  too  seriously.  I 
have  been  one,  and  I  know.  With  one's  own  chil- 
dren, it  is  fatal,  I  was  lecturing  Claude  on  exactly 
that  this  afternoon.  He  is  absurdly  sensitive  about 
Violet, —  turns  all  colours  of  the  rainbow  when  one 
suggests  she's  looking  thin.  You're  the  same.  You 
give  out  to  be  a  strong-minded  pillar  of  your  sex, 
and  I  took  you  in  faith  as  such;  but  on  the  subject 
of  that  fellow  downstairs,  one  could,  at  any  minute, 
knock  you  down  with  a  feather." 

"  You're  scolding  me,"  said  Mrs.  Gibbs,  with  the 
surprised  complacency  of  one  who  has  been  driven 
by  circumstances  for  twenty  years  to  keep  the  upper 
hand,  and  then  of  her  own  will  yielded  up  the  reins. 

"  I  am  not:  I  am  gracefully  expostulating."    He 


GLASSWELL  in 

touched  her  in  passing  to  a  drawer.  "  You  see,  I 
prefer  my  pillars  upright." 

"  And  now  you're  flirting,"  said  she,  more  com- 
placently still. 

"  The  way  you  misuse  words,"  said  the  Rector. 
"  You  ought  to  go  to  Violet  to  learn  the  language." 

Presently  her  spirits  rose  enough  to  carry  the  war 
into  the  enemy's  country.  "  That  young  Brading 
seems  to  get  no  farther  with  Margery,"  she  said. 

"  It's  uphill  work  for  him,"  said  the  Rector.  "  She 
gives  him  nothing  but  monosyllables,  the  tiresome 
hussy.  However,"  he  added,  more  contentedly, 
"  Claude  seemed  to  think  it  was  all  right." 

"  You  mean  you  consulted  him^ "  cried  Mrs. 
Gibbs. 

"  No.  He  gave  me  his  opinion.  I  hadn't  even 
noticed  Robert  was  sweet  on  her,  till  he  spoke.  But 
Claude  has  a  high  opinion  of  Bob,  and  he  has  an  old 
acquaintance  with  the  family.  It  seems  my  young 
gentleman  called  with  a  note  from  his  father  while 
she  was  there  in  Harley  Street,  and  Claude  told  him 
the  maidens  were  engaged.  He's  a  proper  chaperon 
now,  isn't  he?  "    The  Rector  beamed. 

"  Perhaps  he  thought  it  was  Violet,"  said  Mrs. 
Gibbs. 

"No,  he  didn't;  he  made  sure  it  was  Margery, 
though  how,  I  forget.  His  unmanly  subtleties  are 
beyond  me.    I  should  say,"  added  the  Rector,  turn- 


112  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

ing  absent,  "  that  between  the  pair  of  them,  they'll 
marry  Violet  well." 

"  The  Ash  wins?  I  should  hope  so, —  if  they  get 
her  off  their  hands  at  all.  That's  what  I  wouldn't  be 
sure  of." 

"  Wouldn't  you*?  "  thought  the  Rector;  and  pon- 
dered on  the  subject  of  maternal  jealousy;  for  he 
knew  Henrietta's  real  feelings  to  Charles. 

"  Eveleen's  got  a  French  marquee  for  Violet  up 
her  sleeve,"  he  observed,  with  another  effort  to  be 
worldly,  after  an  interval. 

"  Good  gracious, —  poor  girl  I  "  said  Mrs.  Gibbs, 
with  such  genuine  and  heartfelt  fervour,  that  it  put 
an  end  to  the  conversation. 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  Violet  did  not  talk  at  all  to 
her  father  on  the  way  to  London;  for  he  was  in  a 
hurry,  and  chose  to  drive. 

He  explained  to  his  chauffeur  that  he  was  used 
to  the  cross-roads  in  that  part  of  the  country,  but 
the  chauffeur,  though  he  accepted  the  excuse,  knew 
better.  Dr.  Ashwin  kept  his  servants  up  to  the 
mark  by  habitually  excelling  them  in  their  special 
lines.  In  the  rush  of  the  season  he  out-worked  his 
secretary,  out-talked  his  counsel  when  he  went  to 
law,  and  entirely  out-manoeuvred  the  agent  of  his 
country  estate.  He  drove  quite  as  well  as  the  expert 
he  employed,  and  with  far  more  studied  reckless- 


GLASSWELL  113 

ness;  and  he  had  only  brought  him  upon  the  Glass- 
well  expedition  because  he  had  ladies, —  that  is,  his 
niece  and  daughter, —  to  entertain. 

Violet  was  well  used  to  his  pretensions,  and  saw 
him  mount  in  front  of  her  without  much  surprise. 
She  merely  exchanged  a  large-eyed  look  of  sympathy 
with  the  ousted  professional,  when  he  came  round, 
according  to  directions,  to  tuck  her  comfortably  into 
her  seat  behind. 

"  Does  he  mean  to  scorch,  Joliffe^  "  she  said  in  her 
plaintive  tone. 

"  Short  time,  miss,"  said  Joliffe.  "  So  I  under- 
stand." 

"  Well,  it's  not  my  fault  this  time,"  said  Violet. 
"  All  the  last  words  were  his.  Please  tell  the  police 
that,  if  necessary." 

"  I'll  see  to  it,"  said  Joliffe,  with  exquisite  pro- 
priety. "  Tou'll  be  all  right.  Miss  Violet.  Nothing 
further,  is  there*? " 

Violet  thanked  him,  and  subsided  among  her 
cushions  and  rugs.  It  was  noticeable  that  neither  she 
nor  Joliffe  thought  of  an  accident, —  merely  of  the 
police.  Accidents  did  not  figure  in  those  situations 
of  which  "  the  doctor,"  had  control.  Lofty,  impene- 
trable, feminine  security  hedged  about  Violet,  with 
those  two  determined  and  devoted  figures  on  the  seat 
before  her.  For  all  her  emotional  inward  sufferings, 
she  was  accustomed  in  life  to  such  security. 


114  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

Only  one  hitch  in  their  journey  actually  occurred, 
and  that  was  near  the  outset.  Turning  the  second 
of  the  sharp  angles  in  the  road  leading  out  of  the 
village  to  the  highway,  the  party  encountered  a 
man.  He  was  a  tall  man,  very  well  and  quietly 
dressed,  who  had  stopped  in  the  middle  of  the  road 
to  whistle  to  a  large  black  dog.  At  Dr.  Ashwin's 
peremptory  warning,  the  dog  hurried  out  of  the  way ; 
but  the  man  did  not  move  instantly;  and  when  he 
did,  was  only  just  beyond  reach  of  the  wheels  in  time. 
It  was  a  sharply  anxious  moment  for  all  parties,  till 
they  saw  him  safe. 

"  The  d  —  d  fool !  "  ejaculated  JolifEe  at  the  cru- 
cial moment,  moved  out  of  his  stately  calm.  Claude 
merely  grimaced  viciously  as  the  car  shot  by.  As 
for  the  man,  he  stood  on  the  pathway,  gazing  after 
it  in  dignified  reproach,  and  holding  his  dog,  a  pre- 
caution which,  as  a  mere  glance  at  the  animal  showed, 
was  quite  unnecessary. 

Having  passed  without  mishap.  Dr.  Ashwin 
slackened  at  once,  and  turned  round  to  his  daughter. 
Violet  had  half  risen  from  her  seat,  and  was  gazing 
backward  along  the  road,  her  loosened  veils  fluttering 
behind  her. 

"  No  harm  done,"  her  father  called  to  her. 

"  It  isn't  that,''  Violet  called  back,  a  note  of  strong 
emotion  in  her  tone. 

"  Good,"  said  her  father,  and  resumed  the  pace. 


GLASS  WELL  115 

Presently  the  man  beside  him  ventured  on  a  re- 
mark, for  the  figure  on  the  pathway  had  impressed 
him  at  a  second  scrutiny. 

"  Near  thing,  sir,"  he  suggested. 

"  Saved  his  skin  that  time,"  said  the  doctor  lightly. 

"  Gentlemen  should  know  better,"  said  Joliife. 

"Gentlemen  should,"  his  master  agreed;  and 
Joliffe,  glancing  at  him,  surprised  a  smile  upon  his 
face.  It  was  a  relief  to  his  conscientious  mind;  for 
he  was  more  than  a  little  afraid  of  "  the  doctor"; 
and  if  it  really  was  a  gentleman  his  master  had 
so  nearly  killed,  Joliffe  had  used  an  unguarded 
adjective. 

"  Will  you  tell  your  poor  Gardener,"  Violet  wrote 
to  Margery,  "  I  am  very  sorry  that  Father  frightened 
him  in  the  road.  And  since  I  am  sure  he  is  not  the 
kind  of  person  to  boast  of  it,  I  had  better  mention  he 
saved  Erasmus  from  a  viole^it  death.  I  am  not  the 
least  surprised,  knowing  what  dear  Erasmus  is  to 
you  all,  that  he  (Peacock)  looked  absolute  Daggers 
at  Father,  whose  carelessness  is  rapidly  becoming 
proverbial,  and  will  certainly  culminate  in  Trans- 
portation for  someone,  though  probably  not  for  him. 
The  criminal's  identity  was  Masked;  but  I  called 
out  to  Peacock  how  sorry  I  was,  and  I  believe 
Joliffe  did  too.  And  if  P.  did  take  our  number  in  his 
natural  resentment,  ask  him  for  the  Family's  sake, 


ii6  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

darling,  not  to  prosecute.  I  hope  he  did  not  have  to 
trample  on  Erasmus's  dear  toes.  The  bridge  of  his 
nose  (P.'s)  is  a  dream,  as  Charles  observed,  and  the 
way  his  hair  grows  at  the  side  a  Revelation.  You 
must  simply  do  his  portrait  for  the  Pastellists  in 
October,  or  never  more  call  me  friend. 

"  Yours,  very  lonely  without  you, 

"  V.  L  A." 


PART  II 
LENNOXES 


'» -~-«lti'iii^ 


THE  STICKING-PLACE 

Mrs.  Claude  Ashwin  arrived  at  Victoria,  some  six 
days  later  than  the  date  first  indicated  to  her  house- 
hold, with  two  gentlemen  in  attendance,  one  of  whom 
was  French. 

"  Oh,  my  husband  seems  to  be  there,"  she  men- 
tioned as  the  train  drew  up;  and  disappointment 
overspread  the  Frenchman's  countenance,  though 
the  Englishman's  was  blank.  They  could  only  vie 
with  one  another  to  extract  her  smaller  baggage 
from  the  train,  and  even  so  she  did  not  thank  them, 
being  occupied  in  mentioning  a  few  intensely  im- 
portant particulars  concerning  the  larger  trunks' 
contents  to  her  husband's  private  ear.  The  doctor 
was  a  stranger  to  the  younger  of  the  pair  of  escorts, 
though  the  other  seemed  to  know  him  slightly.  He 
received,  on  the  part  of  the  foreigner,  a  very  pene- 
trating scrutiny,  to  which,  though  he  knew  precisely 
what  it  portended,  it  would  have  been  impossible 
for  man  to  appear  more  indifferent. 

"  There,"  said  Eveleen,  when  all  the  men,  porters 
included,  had  finished  skirmishing  about  her,   and 


120  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

calm  was  restored, —  "  I  meant  to  introduce  you  to 
M.  de  Fervolles,  but  he  seems  to  have  disappeared." 
She  appeared  barely  to  regret  the  oversight. 

"  I  daresay  he  will  turn  up  within  the  week,"  said 
Claude.     "  Did  you  give  him  your  address?  " 

"  Good  gracious  no,"  said  Eveleen.  "  He  can  find 
it  if  he  wants  to.  He  knows  London  as  well  as  you 
do,"  she  added. 

"  His  English  ought  to  be  better  then,"  said 
Claude. 

"  Oh  well, —  I  said  you  would  speak  French  if  he 
wanted."  Mrs.  Ashwin  settled  back  in  the  carriage, 
her  fine  eyes  following  the  familiar  movement  of  the 
London  streets.  "  He  plays  billiards,"  she  added,  to 
help  matters  a  little. 

Her  husband  laughed,  which  put  her  out.  She  had 
saved  this  last  fact  carefully,  as  likely  to  appeal 
to  Claude,  if  he  chose  to  be  disagreeable  on  the 
subject  of  the  Marquis  de  Fervolles.  He  did  not 
seem  exactly  disagreeable,  and  he  was  always 
attentive,  but  he  never  behaved  quite  as  Eveleen 
expected. 

Her  only  reply  to  the  misplaced  laugh  was  slightly 
to  roll  out  her  lower  lip,  a  facial  trick  of  hers  that 
became  her.  Eveleen  had  never  been  called  pretty, 
or  even  charming,  and  people  only  used  the  word 
beautiful  about  her  doubtfully.  That  is,  people  in 
London  did.     Other  societies   across  the  Channel 


LENNOXES  121 

were  prodigal  of  discriminating  epithets,  never  less 
than  appreciative.  The  Transatlantic  hit  the  mark 
still  more  simply  with  the  epithet  "  stunning,"  which 
certainly  suited  her  best  of  all.  Since  nature  had 
made  her  stunning,  Mrs.  Ashwin  did  not  put  herself 
out  much  to  improve  on  it,  except  by  devoting  a 
certain  portion  of  her  attention  to  matters  of  dress. 
And  even  that  portion  was  barely  necessary,  if  one 
made  arrangements  to  pass  through  the  "  right 
places  "  in  Paris  twice  a  year.  Choosing,  in  those 
temples  of  taste,  was  fortunately  superfluous;  one 
merely  had  to  show  oneself,  and  approve, —  or  dis- 
approve,—  according  to  the  circumstances.  The 
"  right  places  "  delighted  in  Eveleen,  and  Eveleen 
was  made  for  them.  Even  her  thrift  amused  the 
officiating  priests  within  them:  for  she  frequently 
emerged  with  all  she  wanted,  and  having  spent  half 
as  much  as  her  less  contented  friends.  This  time 
she  had  been  economical,  as  she  told  Claude  when 
he  remarked  on  the  contents  of  her  purse.  He 
would  never  have  asked  to  see  them,  of  course,  but 
that  the  car  happened  to  pass  a  convenient  office, 
and  she  gave  him  her  money  to  change. 

"  A  pound  of  that  is  de  Fervolles',"  she  observed 
carelessly.  "  You  might  remind  me  when  I  see  him : 
or  pay  him  yourself." 

"  Right,"  said  Claude,  and  went  about  her  busi- 
ness.   She  leant  back  in  the  car,  looking  at  the  street, 


122  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

and  a  certain  contentment  crept  over  her  face.  When 
he  returned,  she  had  a  smile  for  him. 

"  It's  rather  nice  to  be  back,  you  know,"  she  ex- 
plained it.    "  There's  nowhere  like  London,  really." 

"  You  come  to  it  fresh,"  said  he.  "  That's  right, 
Joliffe, —  home." 

"  Are  you  tired"?  "  said  Eveleen,  after  an  interval, 
with  a  glance  at  his  face,  which  she  had  hardly  yet 
observed. 

"  No;  but  the  season  is,  rather,"  he  said.  "  If  I 
were  you,  I  should  get  out  of  it  soon.  There  are 
loads  of  invitations." 

"  Yours  or  mine?  " 

"  Both,"  he  answered  gravely.  "  You  can  choose." 

She  considered  a  little,  her  lip  rolled  slightly. 
"  Have  you  answered  any  of  them?  " 

"  No.    I  waited  for  directions." 

"  Well,  I  have  no  wish  to  move.  I  am  particularly 
well,  as  it  happens." 

His  eyes  had  already  told  him  that,  and  it  was 
inconceivable  for  Evie  to  be  otherwise;  yet  the  saying 
relieved  his  mind,  for  it  was  a  sign  of  her  general 
satisfaction  with  life,  and  he  asked  no  more  than  to 
satisfy  her.  He  still  held  her  money  absently  and 
was  only  reminded  when  she  extended  her  hand. 

"  I  have  saved  all  that,"  she  said  complacently, 
when  he  poured  the  gold  into  her  glove.    She  closed 


LENNOXES  123 

her  hand  upon  it,  considering.  "  I  wish  there  was  a 
decent  dressmaker  in  London,"  she  said. 

Her  serenity  was  so  perfect  that  he  asked  — 
"  Ideally  or  practically  *?  " 

"  I  want  her,"  said  Eveleen  simply.  "  They  make 
in  Paris,  they  don't  make  over.  I  shan't  touch  those 
new  things  till  the  autumn,  naturally,"  she  pursued. 

"  Aren't  we  worthy  of  them*?  "  he  protested. 

"  No."  She  fixed  him  with  her  fine  eyes.  "  Per- 
haps, if  de  Fervolles  dined  with  us  —  but  even  so 
"    Diverting  her  eyes,  she  pondered. 

"  Isn't  that  girl  you  have  any  good'?  "  said  Claude, 
after  an  interval  of  consideration  on  his  side. 
"  Where  is  she,  by  the  way*?  " 

"  Leon  tine?  She's  not  bad.  She  stopped  behind 
at  Argenteuil  with  her  ridiculous  family." 

"  Good  gracious  I  Why"?  "  He  was  roused,  for  he 
minded  much  more  than  she  did  the  machinery  of 
the  house  being  disturbed. 

"  Oh,  she  seemed  seedy  one  day,  and  was  useless, 
so  I  let  her  go  to  them.  I  couldn't  be  bothered. 
She  developed  something  —  what  did  they  call  it 

?  "  He  had  made  an  anxious  movement,  and, 

playing  with  him  as  a  cat  plays,  she  feigned  to  forget 
the  word.  "  Fluxion,  that's  it.  I've  no  notion  what 
it  means,  but  I  supposed  it  was  not  infectious,  or  they 
would  have  told  me." 


124  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

"  No,"  he  simply  said. 

After  a  pause  in  the  half-light,  she  laughed  softly. 
"  Frightened,  weren't  you,  Claude,"  she  said.  "  Was 
it  for  me,  or  Violet*?  " 

She  still  got  no  answer,  so,  with  something  the 
annoyance  of  a  feline  at  such  neglect,  she  held  her 
wrist  to  him. 

"  Feel  it,  do,"  she  invited.  "  Sometimes  it  amuses 
me." 

She  meant  his  physician's  manner;  and,  obedient 
to  the  challenge,  he  felt  her  velvet  wrist.  Eveleen 
knew,  by  the  touch  of  his  fingers,  for  all  their  com- 
posed, accustomed  movements,  that  he  was  still  her 
helpless  prey.  Why  she  had  chosen  to  enslave  him, 
she  could  hardly  say, —  or  perhaps,  she  had  forgotten. 
It  might  have  been  because  he  was  one  of  the  men 
who  have  no  natural  taste  to  be  enslaved,  and  who 
would  have  been  quite  content  in  studious  solitude 
unmated.  He  had  been  on  the  edge  of  slipping  from 
the  struggle  when  Eveleen  found  him,  with  all  his 
laurels,  University  and  otherwise,  still  unfaded  at 
his  feet.  This  would  have  been  a  thousand  pities, 
since  his  brains  were  of  the  kind  that  have  a  market 
value.  So  Eveleen  married,  and  employed  him  in 
her  interest,  not  to  mention  the  world's,  with  quite 
remarkable  success.  Society  should  certainly  have 
been  grateful  to  her,  and  doubtless  was;  at  least, 
society  talked  of  him  freely,  flocked  to  his  door,  gilt 


LENNOXES  125 

his  doorstep  in  the  usual  manner  in  the  mornings, 
and  not  infrequently,  during  the  afternoon,  fell  in 
love  with  his  wife. 

Eveleen's  judgment  in  material  things  was  sure, 
and  she  had  never  been  tempted  to  regret  the  step  she 
had  taken  in  marrying  him,  though  it  had  been  con- 
sidered a  throw  so  risky  as  to  verge  on  the  romantic, 
by  her  more  sober  advisers.  She  had  her  choice  of 
titles  even  then, —  but  what  are  titles,  seriously 
regarded*?  They  save  little  trouble  in  life,  and  not 
uncommonly  add  to  it.  Claude  saved  her  trouble  in 
all  directions,  diverted  her  in  her  duller  intervals, 
and  was  most  creditable  and  convenient.  A  whole 
group  of  people  in  the  Olympian  upper  walks  of  Lon- 
don society,  undoubtedly  superior,  and  traditionally 
rather  inattentive  to  feminine  charms,  smiled  upon 
Eveleen  because  of  Claude.  He  was  well-derived 
too,  as  she  had  discovered  with  surprise  since  her 
marriage,  and  had  family  records  to  show  of  which 
no  one  adopting  the  name  need  be  ashamed.  Eveleen, 
in  short,  rather  plumed  herself  on  the  alliance  as 
time  went  on,  and  her  discontented  connections,  very 
wisely,  shut  their  mouths,  and  allowed  its  accustomed 
meed  to  her  flair  and  foresight. 

She  liked  to  tease  Claude  occasionally,  of  course; 
teasing  a  clever  man  is  so  amusing.  She  had  sus- 
pected, by  various  accounts  not  his  own,  that  he 
had  enjoyed  his  bachelorhood  of  late;  whereas  she, 


126  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

in  the  tiresome  business  of  the  maid,  had  actually 
felt  the  want  of  him.  She  intended  therefore  to 
revenge  herself  a  little,  before  they  settled  into  their 
peculiar  partnership  again.  He  was  tired  to-night, 
which  made  his  emotions  the  easier  to  play  upon. 

She  had  touched  the  emotion  by  the  mention  of 
his  daughter's  name,  and  he  merely  waited  her 
pleasure  to  reach  that  subject.  It  was  bound  to 
come;  for,  though  Eveleen  envisaged  circumstances 
slowly,  she  had  now  had  nearly  a  week  to  take  in 
the  elaborate  telegram  he  and  his  daughter  in  collu- 
sion had  despatched. 

It  came  at  last.  "  How's  Violet?  "  said  Eveleen, 
on  the  tail  of  a  slight  yawn,  as  they  were  nipped  in 
the  nightly  traffic  of  Bond  Street,  and  their  lordly 
course  delayed. 

"  She  is  as  usual,"  said  Claude.  "  She  was  dis- 
appointed not  to  hear  from  you." 

"Oh,  of  course,  I  supposed  it  was  all  right;  that 
you  would  see  to  it,  I  mean.  Girls  are  like  that 
nowadays,"  she  added,  looking  out. 

"  Not  all  of  them,"  he  retorted. 

"  The  majority.  Violet  is  not  the  least  singular, 
really;  she  only  requires  to  be  thought  so."  A  pause. 
"  I  daresay  you  indulged  her,"  said  Eveleen. 

"  In  thinking  that?  I  do  think  her  singular,  yes. 
There  is  only  one  of  her  in  the  world." 

"  Claude,  I  won't  have  it,"  she  said  sharply.    She 


LENNOXES  127 

alluded  to  his  "  sleep-walking  "  tone,  to  which  she 
objected  even  more  than  Margery  Gibbs.  She  had 
said  so  more  than  once. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,"  he  said,  waking.  "  We  will 
talk  things  over  this  evening.  The  child  is  longing 
to  start." 

"  Has  she  not  started  *?  The  telegram  said  Tues- 
day." 

"  It  also  said,  she  was  waiting  for  your  consent." 

"  My  silence  was  consent,  I  suppose." 

"  I  supposed  that  too.  But  you  must  have  known 
she  would  not  accept  it  as  such.  She  wants  the 
maternal  signature." 

Eveleen  laughed  again.  "  Well,  who  made  her  a 
tiresome  little  prude  ^  —  I  didn't,"  she  said  lazily. 

"  That  means  you  sign,  then?  "  he  pressed  her 
swiftly:  too  swiftly  a  little,  and  as  though  aware 
of  the  pressure,  she  drew  in  her  feelers  at  once. 

"  You  are  never  really  '  rasant,'  "  she  observed, 
"except  on  this  one  subject.  What  does  it  matter 
if  I  sign,  as  you  call  it,  or  not?  She'll  do  it  all  the 
same." 

He  left  it  there,  with  the  expert's  instinct,  and 
let  her  turn  the  subject  to  trivialities.  Though  he 
never  confessed  it  to  himself,  he  knew  Eveleen's 
mind  through  and  through,  and  managed  it  perfectly, 
allowing  unconsciously  for  a  certain  absolute  slow- 
ness it  had  in  grasping  new  material.    The  news  of 


128  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

Violet's  mild  revolt  might  even  possibly  have  shocked 
her,  and  she  be  unwilling  to  betray  the  emotion.  He 
watched  for  such  natural  stirring  in  his  wife,  as  he 
would  have  watched  for  muscular  movement  in  a 
paralysed  patient;  but  as  yet  she  would  not  even 
show  annoyance.  She  looked  about  her  with 
untroubled  eyes,  and  saw  the  world  to  which  she 
was  accustomed.  He  admired,  as  often  before,  that 
splendid  healthy  impassivity,  a  quality  of  the  gods, 
taking  all  and  giving  nothing,  letting  others  grope 
and  batter  themselves  against  its  rock-like  front  in 
vain. 

Gnce  in  youth,  during  a  phase  of  classical  re- 
searches, Violet  had  asked  him  what  Helen  of  Troy 
was  really  like;  and  he  had  replied  unhesitatingly, 
"  Like  your  mother."  Then  he  had  regretted  it,  for 
the  twelve-year-old  child  had  looked  at  him,  without 
replying,  and  with  a  certain  delicate  reproach. 

Violet  was  waiting  for  them  now,  when  they 
reached  the  house.  Graceful  as  usual,  and  consid- 
erate of  people's  tastes,  she  made  no  disturbance. 
She  dawned  like  a  white  spirit  on  the  background 
of  the  hall  as  her  mother  entered,  and  greeted  her 
with  decorum.  Eveleen  kissed  her  placidly,  touch- 
ing with  approbation  the  arrangement  of  her  hair. 
She  did  not  really  object  to  Violet,  who  took  the 
post  provided  for  her  on  the  stage  of  her  mother's 
social  success  with  discretion,  and  filled  it  adroitly; 


LENNOXES  129 

or,  to  put  it  more  in  Eveleen's  manner,  who  gener- 
ally looked  nice  in  the  right  places. 

"  Dinner  is  at  eight-fifteen,"  observed  Violet.  "  I 
hope  that  will  give  you  time'?  "  She  seemed  earnest 
and  anxious,  as  a  good  hostess  might  have  seemed. 

Violet  on  her  side  did  not  dislike  her  mother, 
unless  in  passing  flashes,  when  her  father  was  badly 
worried:  but  from  the  age  of  ten  years  she  had 
despised  her  tranquilly.  She  never  gave  Eveleen  the 
slightest  indication  of  this  attitude,  for  she  obeyed 
her  with  attention,  and  addressed  her  with  the  same 
plaintive  politeness  she  showed  to  all  the  world.  She 
would  have  been  horrified  if  anyone  had  accused  her 
of  deceit,  but  her  precocious  pent-up  wits  were  natu- 
rally subtle,  and  she  had  hitherto  deceived  her  mother 
as  easily  as  she  had  circumvented  her  father:  the 
isolation  that  resulted  forming  her  private  tragedy. 
It  was  a  genuine  tragedy  enough,  for  a  child  of  her 
age,  and  had  comprised  for  a  sensitive  child,  seasons 
of  very  genuine  suffering;  but  of  late  years,  as  she 
thrust  the  childhood  she  disdained  behind  her,  her 
acquaintance,  rapidly  growing,  with  her  father's 
mind,  and  his  unfailing  care  and  tenderness  for  her, 
mind  and  body,  had  made  isolation  far  more 
tolerable,  to  say  the  least. 

At  present  she  was  merely  anxious  for  the  credit 
of  her  housekeeping,  and  trusted  she  had  allowed  her 
mother  time  to  dress. 


130  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

"  Is  anyone  coming?  "  said  Eveleen,  picking  up  a 
letter  or  two. 

"  Only  one  of  Violet's  old  men,"  said  Claude,  as 
he  hung  up  his  coat.     "  Lucas  Warden." 

"  I  thought  you  would  like  a  fourth,"  deprecated 
Violet.  "  And  Mr.  Warden  is  harmless.  Besides,  he 
can  play  billiards:  at  least,  Father  says  he  does  to 
practice  on,  faute  de  mieux.'" 

"  Is  he  listening*?  "  enquired  Eveleen,  glancing 
through  the  letter  she  had  picked  up.  Her  expressive 
lip  had  rolled  out  slightly. 

"  I  left  him  in  the  drawing-room,"  said  Violet. 
"  The  door  is  shut." 

"  Then  I  won't  have  billiards  to-night,"  said  the 
mistress  of  the  house. 

"  Mr.  Warden  will  be  thankful,"  said  Violet 
gravely.  She  glanced  at  her  father,  half  in  sympa- 
thy, half  challenging  him  to  resist.  He  did  not 
always  resist,  she  considered,  sufficiently;  though  he 
was  quite  capable,  at  need,  of  overturning  such  petty 
tyranny. 

"  We  have  weighty  matters  to  discuss,"  he  said, 
putting  his  hand  behind  her  hair.  It  was  exactly 
the  same  gesture  that  his  wife  had  made,  but  Violet 
felt  the  difference. 

"  Oh !  "  Her  brows  went  up.  "  Then  shall  I  tell 
Mr.  Warden  he  is  de  trop?  I  quite  thought  Mother 
would  be  too  tired  to-night." 


LENNOXES  131 

"  I  am  not  the  least  tired,  child,"  said  Eveleen, 
frowning  slightly.  Any  hint  of  managing  her 
brought  that  frown,  and  Violet  sometimes  betrayed 
a  slightly  spinsterish  gift  of  management.  As  to 
her  daughter's  "  old  men,"  she  had  no  objection  to 
them;  especially  to  the  present  one,  a  gay  bachelor 
publisher  of  forty-nine,  a  frequent  habitue  of  the 
house,  and  an  avowed  admirer  of  her  own.  She 
was,  however,  jealous  of  Claude's  billiards,  as  of 
most  of  the  keen  interests  that  caught  or  claimed 
his  passing  attention;  and  she  had  not  the  least 
desire  for  a  tete-a-tete  with  the  "child,"  who  in- 
herited the  tiresome  tongue  of  her  father's  family, 
and  might  very  probably  dodge  or  defeat  her,  if  she 
summoned  no  men  to  her  support.  For  this  reason 
Eveleen  gathered  the  men,  her  accustomed  phalanx, 
about  her,  during  the  meal  and  afterwards;  pro- 
longing her  sojourn  in  the  dining-room  with  her 
usual  grand  deliberation  in  pursuit  of  her  private 
aims;  and  had  no  difficulty  in  holding  their  atten- 
tion, whether  she  talked  or  not. 

But  she  had  not  reckoned  with  Violet's  resources. 
Violet  had  on  her  own  part  summoned  Mr.  Lucas 
Warden,  gaily  surnamed  her  god-papa,  to  her  service 
in  advance.  Plotting  was  rife  at  all  times  in  Mrs. 
Ashwin's  household;  her  presence  seemed  to  inspire 
it.  Mr.  Warden  knew  all  the  circumstances  in  this 
instance,  and  was  immensely  tickled  by  them.    The 


132  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

idea  of  Violet  pretending  to  be  a  working-woman 
was  amusing  to  begin  with ;  the  idea  of  her  outfacing 
her  mother  with  such  a  preposterous  proposal  was 
more  delicious  still ;  and  the  idea  of  her  demanding 
his  collaboration  in  these  projects  was  the  best  joke 
of  all.  Mr.  Warden,  an  agreeable  gamboller  along 
the  paths  of  life,  took  life's  duties  in  general  very 
easily;  but  he  found  he  had  to  disturb  himself 
seriously  in  Miss  Ashwin's  interest,  before  the  end  of 
the  meal. 

Old  or  "  oldish  "  men  invariably  liked  Violet,  and 
in  quite  early  youth  she  had  owned  a  small  circle  of 
such.  Mr.  Warden  was  her  own  friend,  appropriated 
to  herself  by  ingenious  effort  as  follows. 

He  had  first  fallen  under  her  notice  when  he  had 
been  kind  enough,  at  the  instance  of  the  lady  who 
taught  them,  to  show  her  and  four  friends,  at  the 
age  of  fifteen,  round  the  collections  in  the  British 
Museum.  Greek  art  had  not  till  then  occupied  Miss 
Ashwin's  attention;  but  in  its  new  connection  with 
Mr.  Warden's  grey  curls,  brusque  movements,  wide 
sweet  smile,  and  pleasant  fashion  of  answering  you 
seriously  when  you  least  expected  it, —  Greek  art 
became  a  thing  to  be  assimilated,  first-hand  and  as 
rapidly  as  possible. 

So  Violet  assimilated,  ravaging  the  shelves  of  her 
father's  library  when  he  was  out,  and  complaining 


LENNOXES  133 

bitterly  to  the  servants  of  the  dust  which  was  thus 
transferred  from  the  volumes  to  her  hands.  Having 
cut  the  pages  of  the  cleanest  book  with  a  silver 
knife,  read  an  introductory  chapter,  and  looked  at 
all  the  illustrations,  she  put  the  volume  aside,  shut 
her  lips,  and  wrote  out  a  list  of  questions  in  a  care- 
ful round  hand.  This  she  took  the  earliest  oppor- 
tunity of  laying  before  her  father's  eyes. 

"  I  expect  you  really  know,"  she  told  him,  "  if  you 
consider  a  little.  You  have  been  twice  to  Athens, 
and  anyhow  boys  always  learn  those  things  at 
school." 

Dr.  Ashwin  continued  writing  in  a  black  notebook 
with  a  vulgar  shining  cover  which  was  Violet's  enemy, 
and  said  he  required  notice  of  the  question. 

"  You  are  not  considering,"  said  Violet  reproach- 
fully. "  You  think  I  am  teasing  as  usual,  instead  of 
trying,  in  the  teeth  of  opportunity,  to  learn.  If  I 
have  chosen  the  wrong  minute,  you  know  you  have 
only  to  tell  me  so." 

The  elaboration  of  this,  together  with  its  neat 
utterance,  suited  Claude's  taste  exactly.  He  turned 
to  her,  apologised,  offered  her  his  whole  attention  for 
two  minutes,  gave  her  half  her  answers  with 
decision,  and  admitted  his  ignorance  of  the  rest. 

"  But  if  it's  serious.  Puss,"  he  added,  "  I  will  write 
to  Warden.  He's  the  best  man  I  can  think  of  on 
the  spur  of  the  moment." 


134  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

Violet  coloured  with  pleasure  at  this  unexpected 
coincidence,  and,  though  she  thanked  her  father 
gravely,  never  betrayed  it  was  exactly  what  she 
wanted.  Claude,  who  had  known  Lucas  Warden 
slightly  in  college  days,  revived  the  acquaintance 
at  their  common  club  without  difficulty,  during  one 
of  his  "  odd  moments  "  ;  and  Violet,  with  even  less 
delay,  cemented  the  connection. 

"  Father's  so  absurdly  busy,  you  know,"  she  told 
him,  "  and  I  am  always  wanting  to  know  things.  I 
hope  you  don't  object  to  bothering." 

Lucas  Warden  was  far  from  objecting;  indeed, 
few  men  of  approaching  fifty  could  have  resisted 
Violet  Ashwin  at  fifteen.  When  they  did  not  see 
one  another,  they  corresponded  solemnly.  Violet 
possessed  a  genuine  gift  for  the  literary  letter,  which 
would  not  have  escaped  notice  and  appreciation  in 
the  days  of  her  great-grandmother,  and  which,  like 
her  manner  of  talking,  sent  Mr.  Warden  off  his  grey- 
curled  head  with  delight.  Among  her  own  gen- 
eration, which  admired  bluntness,  her  studied  speech 
was  noted  by  girls  as  "  mincing,"  and  had  a  marked 
power  to  scare  and  outrage  all  mankind  under  thirty 
years.  Only  men  already  comfortably  launched  be- 
yond the  forties  seemed  to  enjoy  these  flowers  of 
utterance,  as  they  fell  from  Violet's  lips;  men  such 
as  her  father,  her  Uncle  Arthur,  and  Mr.  Warden 
above  all. 


LENNOXES  135 

The  publisher,  who,  compared  with  the  doctor, 
seemed  to  have  a  singular  number  of  odd  and  other 
times  to  spare,  invited  himself  often  to  his  old  friend 
Ash  win's  house,  found  him  a  less  stilted  fellow  than 
he  recollected,  his  dinners  admirable,  his  wife  a 
picture,  and  his  daughter  a  mine  of  innocent  diver- 
sion. Violet  was  quite  impossible,  he  told  Ashwin 
in  his  gay  manner,  and  only  to  be  met  with  in  books. 
She  spoke  in  print,  and  moved  in  half-tone  pictures. 
She  was  perfect  natural  refreshment  from  the  obvious 
"  vital  "  girl  imposed  by  the  age.  She  was  civilised, 
sophisticated,  attenuated,  new  to  art.  She  was  her 
own  discovery,  re-discovery  rather.  She  must  have 
looked  herself  up  in  the  back  of  the  book-shelves. 
Mr.  Warden  was,  in  fact,  as  enthusiastic  on  his  side 
as  his  "  god-daughter  "  was  on  hers.  And  the  absurd 
appearance  they  presented  together,  and  the  serious 
partnership  they  professed,  diverted  Claude  contin- 
ually, though  it  seemed  rather  to  annoy  his  wife. 


\ 


II 

ENTER  MISS  ECCLES 

Violet  sat  now  at  the  head  of  the  table,  for  her 
mother  abdicated  calmly,  preferring  to  face  the 
guest,  with  whom  she  also  almost  exclusively  con- 
versed. Having  registered  the  introduction  of  Mr. 
Warden  into  her  social  scheme  as  a  success,  Violet 
as  housekeeper  had  no  further  doubts,  for  the  cook 
was  perfect,  and  a  little  earnest  talk  with  that  func- 
tionary at  an  early  hour  had  provided  for  a  faultless 
meal.  She  listened  to  the  talk,  helping  herself  at 
languid  intervals  to  food,  and  smiling  slightly  at  her 
father  now  and  then. 

Dr.  Ashwin,  though  he  inserted  a  few  words  in  the 
dialogue  whenever  Warden,  in  the  character  of  the 
lady's  man,  became  too  provocatively  silly,  was 
'rather  silent  too,  and  took  in  Violet  across  the  table 
very  thoroughly,  in  an  occasional  piercing  glance. 
He  trusted  she  was  not  so  unhappy  as  she  appeared. 
That  air  of  yearning  misery  she  had  at  times,  he 
told  himself,  was  merely  a  trick  of  her  face  in  repose, 
a  chance  interplay  of  pensive  lashes  and  drooping 
lips.    He  supposed,  since  his  wife  told  him  so,  she 


LENNOXES  137 

was  not  pretty,  but  he  liked  her  appearance.  Her 
forehead  and  eyes  were  Margaret's.  There  was 
nothing  classical  in  her  features,  but  there  was 
something  pleasing, —  vaguely  wild  amid  her  sur- 
roundings of  solid  comfort.  Claude  tried  conscien- 
tiously at  moments  to  lay  aside  all  pre-disposition  in 
the  case  of  Violet,  and  see  her  through  the  eyes  of 
other  and  younger  men.  He  quite  thought  some- 
times he  had  accomplished  it,  but  he  never  did. 

Violet,  who  had  been  convinced  for  whole  days 
of  despair  that  she  was  hideous,  and  only  returned  to 
temporary  life  when  her  hat  was  a  success,  or  some 
stranger  looked  twice  at  her  with  the  eye  of  approba- 
tion, felt  the  reassurance  of  her  father's  eyes  upon 
her  now.  His  taste,  after  all,  was  to  be  trusted.  She 
drooped  less  and  came  to  life  as  the  meal  went  on. 
Lucas  Warden  had  been  gambolling  idly  for  Eve- 
leen's  benefit,  and  enjoying  an  unusually  free  field. 
Violet  began  to  slide  dry  little  sallies  into  the  con- 
versation, and  give  him  the  provocation  he  needed 
to  produce  his  best  retorts.  Claudr,  also  turning  his 
attention  that  way,  discouraged  Lucas's  conclusions 
systematically,  and  discounted  his  statements ;  until, 
thus  prodded  by  both,  Mr.  Warden  began  to  drive  his 
hair  up  with  his  fingers  and  roll  his  eyes  at  them  in 
turn,  as  though  recollecting  that  something  was  ex- 
pected of  him  that  he  had  half  forgotten,  in  the 
lustre  of  Mrs.  Ashwin's  transcendent  neighbourhood. 


138  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

"  Won't  that  do*? "  he  enquired  of  Violet  in  a 
pause,  having  finished  a  particularly  neat  sentence. 

"  Yes,"  said  Violet,  as  though  summing  up  his 
conversational  efforts,  "  that  will  about  do.  Now 
suppose  we  drop  literature,  and  talk  geography. 
Mother  likes  it  just  as  well.  They  may  smoke,  I 
suppose.  Mother,  mayn't  they*?  " 

"  Goodness  yes,"  said  Eveleen,  rousing.  "  I've 
only  my  old  clothes." 

"  They  have  been  waiting  to  be  reassured,  poor 
dears,"  said  Violet.  "  Because  they  can't  be  expected 
to  know,  can  they*?  Mr.  V^arden  can  date  anything 
up  to  the  second  century,  but  in  the  latter  years  of 
our  era,  he  is  quite  at  sea." 

"  I  can't  date  you,  I  told  your  father  so,"  said 
Warden.    "  All  I  am  sure  of  is,  you're  out  of  date." 

"An  anachronism^"  said  Violet.  "Oh,  thank 
you:  how  nice  it  feels.  Well,  now,  to  turn  to 
geography.  It  may  be  news  to  you.  Father,  that 
Mr.  Warden  and  I,  being  both  for  different  reasons 
out  of  work,  went  exploring  to-day." 

"  I  wasn't  out  of  work,"  interposed  Warden.  "  I 
had  loads,  but  I  neglected  it." 

"Where  did  you  explored  "  said  Claude.  "  Not 
to  the  City  again"?  I  thought  you  said  you  had  fin- 
ished the  churches.  Warden." 

"  So  we  have.  Strictly  speaking,  your  daughter 
now  knows  her  native  town.    To-day  we  went  afield, 


LENNOXES  139 

to  the  neighbouring  villages."  Mr.  Warden,  now 
smoking  happily,  waved  a  hand. 

"  We  discovered  Battersea,"  said  Violet  gently. 
"  Do  you  know  where  Battersea  is,  Mother  dear*?  " 

"  It's  a  pretty  little  place,"  Lucas  murmured. 

"  I  have  seen  the  name  written,"  said  Eveleen, 
with  deliberation. 

"  On  a  telegram?  "  Violet  leant  forward.  "  And 
before  that  on  buses'?  Well,  that  was  exactly  the 
extent  of  my  own  knowledge  also.  But  first  Uncle 
Arthur,  and  then  Miss  Lennox,  and  then  Mr. 
Warden,  stimulated  my  imagination  to  such  an  ex- 
tent, that  we  took  one  of  the  buses  to-day,  and  pushed 
on  —  until  we  found  it." 

"  Why  not  the  carriage  *?  "  said  Eveleen. 

"  Oh, —  because  a  well-known  society  doctor 
was  monopolising  it;  and  we  thought  his  researches 
might  be  more  important  than  ours.  Besides,  a 
yellow  omnibus  is  quite  delicious,  really." 

"  I  assure  you,  I  never  knew  of  the  plan  till  this 
minute,  Evie,"  said  Claude.  "  Or  I'd  have  taken 
steps." 

"  As  it  was,  we  took  them,"  said  Warden.  "  I've 
not  walked  so  much  for  years.  The  village,  if  re- 
mote, is  extensive,  unluckily." 

"  I  took  great  care  of  Mr.  Warden,"  said  Violet. 
"  Except  just  crossing  the  bridge,  when  the  view  was 
really  so  wonderful  that  I  forgot  him." 


140  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

"  The  river  Thames,"  Warden  struck  in,  "  beyond 
which  Battersea  —  er  —  nestles, —  came  quite  as  a 
surprise  to  Miss  Violet.  Yet  I  pointed  out  it  flows 
in  sight  of  our  town,  and  I  had  even  hinted  there 
was  another  side  to  it.  On  either  side  the  river,  I 
told  her,  lie  the  broad  bus  routes  to  Peckham  Rye 


"  You  did  not,"  said  Violet.  "  You  said  there  was 
nothing  to  look  at  that  way  worth  a  twopenny  fare." 

"  Well,  you  proved  there  was,"  said  Lucas.  "  I 
admit  that.  Good  gracious," —  he  combed  his  curls 
gently, —  "  I  can't  get  over  that  girl." 

"Girl^"  said  Eveleen,  stirring.  "Was  it  girls 
you  went  exploring  for,  then^  " 

"  Not  a  bit  of  it,  Mrs.  Ashwin,  on  my  word.  I 
shut  my  eyes,  and  let  Miss  Violet  call  the  tune.  Her 
erratic  impulses  seemed  to  have  a  guiding  star  some- 
where unseen,  and,  though  she  walked  me  off  my  legs, 
and  consulted  any  number  of  policemen,  I  trusted 
her  blindly.  Result:  I  turned  up  an  old  friend, 
and  as  pretty  a  girl  as  you  could  see  on  a  summer's 
day.  And  weren't  they  fighting  just,"  he  added  to 
Violet.  "  Oh  no.  For  all  their  subsequent  civility 
to  us,  the  fur  had  been  flying  about  that  room.  I  saw 
little  bits  of  it,  lying  round." 

"  Oh  dear  me,"  said  Violet  bitterly,  "  how  badly 
you  tell  a  story.  I  wish  I  had  not  left  it  to  you.  I 
don't   wonder   poor   Mother   looks    harassed,    fol- 


LENNOXES  141 

lowing."  The  staid  tranquillity  of  Mrs.  Ashwin's 
face  was  so  perfect  that,  before  he  could  prevent  him- 
self, Lucas  threw  back  his  head  and  laughed. 

"  Miss  Lennox,"  said  Violet,  "  the  same  that  wants 
me  to  join  her  on  Monday  next,  is  a  dear  old  friend 
of  Mr.  Warden's,  Mother  dear:  a  friend  of  his  youth- 
ful days.  He  says  she  kindled  a  flame  he  yet  de- 
plores, but  I  notice  he  says  that  of  most  people  whose 
back  histories  I  am  not  likely  to  know  about.  He 
must  have  been  terribly  —  what's  the  word?  —  in- 
flammable." 

"  I  was, —  and  am,"  said  Lucas. 

"  He's  proud  of  it,"  said  Violet.  "  But  I  feel  for 
the  other  side.  It  must  be  such  nervous  work  kindling 
rather  large  men  unexpectedly.  Hateful,  I  should 
think, —  if  true.  Now,  I  propose  myself  to  tell  you 
the  tale " 

"  Right,"  said  Warden,  "  and  I'll  interrupt  you 
with  impertinence.     Off  you  go." 

"Well,  I  don't  know  at  all  what  Mr.  Warden 
means  by  an  atmosphere  of  warfare  in  the  room, 
for  they  were  perfectly  sweet  to  us,  both  ot  them, 
considering  we  interrupted  their  morning's  work  most 
terribly.  Well,  they  were  working,  Mr.  Warden, 
—  yards  of  it.  Untidy  it  might  be  called  a  little,  but 
Miss  Eccles  rolled  everything  up  before  Miss  Lennox 
had  finished  explaining  they  were  not  prepared  for 
visitors.    I  entreated  not  to  be  visitors.  I  said,  I  only 


142  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

knew  how  she  must  be  feeling  about  this  absurd 
delay,  which  will  happen  when  people  are  traveling; 
and  that  the  least  I  could  do  was  to  call  and  explain, 
—  which  was  obvious.  And  then  Mr.  Warden 
remembered  her  suddenly, —  I  suppose  he  had  been 
pondering  which  she  M^as, —  and  they  said  sweet 
nothings  about  their  early  life.  And  in  the  interval 
I  went  to  the  window.  And  while  I  stood  there, 
trying  hard  to  remember  a  verse  of  Henley's,  and 
astounded  at  the  multiplicity  of  chimneys  ingen- 
iously fitted  in  to  take  up  every  inch  of  sky,  and 
so  prevent  dressmakers  earning  the  salaries  they 
deserve " 

"  I  seldom  cavil  at  your  style,"  said  Warden. 
"  But  that  sentence  is  too  long." 

"  It's  my  strong  feelings,"  said  Violet,  slightly 
flushed.  "  F lease  do  not  interrupt  me.  While  I 
stood  there  drinking  in  the  chimneys, —  I  heard  Miss 
Eccles  snifF." 

"  Sniff,  or  sigh"?  "  enquired  Claude.  "  It's  not  the 
same." 

"  Sniff,  Father  dear.  The  sound  that  means  the 
most  compassionate  kind  of  contempt,  for  circum- 
stances or  for  people  you  can't  help." 

"  What  was  the  circumstance  in  this  instance, — 
you*?  " 

"  I  could  not  be  sure,  of  course.  But  it  interested 
me  at  once.    You  see,  till  that  moment  I  had  only 


LENNOXES  143 

thought  Miss  Eccles  was  the  ordinary  kind  of  person 
in  black,  with  a  waist,"  said  Violet. 

"  Had  you"?  "  said  Lucas  Warden. 

"  Yes."  She  turned  on  him  in  a  flash.  "  Because 
I  am  a  woman.  Mother  will  tell  you  the  same  thing. 
Ev^erywhere  we  go,  in  shops  and  theatres  and  tea- 
places,  waisted  people  in  black  go  sliding  about. 
Often  when  you  look  at  them  by  chance  they  are 
lovely,  and  that  was  the  case  to-day.  I  simply  had 
not  thought  of  looking  at  her." 

"  I  can  give  you  a  better  reason  for  the  neglect," 
said  Warden.  "  She  kept  her  back  turned  con- 
tinuously." 

"  And  who  wonders?  "  said  Violet  warmly.  "  She 
feels  me  an  abominable  intruder,  and  suspects  me  of 
snatching  at  her  well-earned  gains.  She  feels  I  am 
an  amateur  —  highly-skilled  people  always  do, — 
and  she  knows  Miss  Lennox  is  unfairly  prejudiced 
in  my  favour,  by  no  virtue  of  mine,  but  because  of 
Father's  beautiful  behaviour  to  her  at  the  Gibbs's 
party."  Eveleen's  fine  eyes  turned  in  Claude's 
direction,  and  he  feared  an  interruption;  but  Violet 
skimmed  on. 

"  Ladies'  pretensions  in  trade  must  necessarily 
seem  to  her  ridiculous,  and  exasperation  with  Miss 
Lennox  all  this  year  must  have  been  her  daily  bread. 
As  for  Mr.  Warden," —  she  turned  to  that  gentle- 
man, and  paused  dramatically.     "  I  forget,"   she 


144  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

said  innocently.  "  Does  one  read  Dickens  now,  or 
does  one  not'?  " 

"  One  does,"  said  Dr.  Ashwin. 

"  One  does  not,"  said  Lucas  Warden  simulta- 
neously. 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Violet.  "  Then  I  appeal  to 
Father  only.  He  will  remember  the  incident  about 
poor  Kate  Nickleby,  and  the  ancient  men  who 
crawled  into  the  shop  to  ogle  her " 

"  Rather  than  the  elegant  ladies  they  escorted," 
Claude  supplied. 

"  Just  so,  Father  dear.  You  have  such  a  comfort- 
ing memory.  Understand  me,"  said  Violet,  stretch- 
ing a  hand,  "  it  was  Miss  Eccles'  startling  beauty, 
and  the  thought  of  a  thoroughly  inferior  mother  in 
the  background,  that  set  me  thinking  of  poor  Kate. 
Not  at  all  the  character  of  her  face,  for  Kate's 
features  were  ninnyish  probably,  for  all  their  charm." 

"  Nor  the  striking  resemblance  of  Miss  Lennox  to 
the  Mantalini,  I  should  imagine,"  said  Claude. 

"  Nor  that,"  agreed  his  daughter.  "  Oh  dear  me, 
I  wish  she  was."  She  leant  her  chin  on  her  palm 
and  reflected  sadly. 

"  That  girl  has  the  temper  of  a  pole-cat,"  said  Mr. 
Warden,  taking  his  cigar  out. 

"  Yes,  poor  dear,"  said  Violet.  "  When  her  won- 
derful eyes  dropped  from  me  to  my  clothes,  I  was 
so  relieved.    I  felt  they  were  just  worth  looking  at 


LENNOXES  145 

possibly,  and  I  did  not  mind  their  being  burnt  alive." 

"  Has  she  any  style*?  "  said  Eveleen  carelessly. 

"  Yes,  Mother,"  said  Violet,  suddenly  meek. 
"  It's  a  pity  you  can't  see  some  things  she  did  for 
Margery  Gibbs.  When  I  lent  her  my  blue  Italian 
regimental  coat  to  copy  at  home " 

"  You  never  were  so  frantic,"  said  Eveleen,  moved 
a  little.    "  Is  the  person  respectable"?  " 

"  Well,"  said  Violet.  "  Her  mother  drinks  a  little, 
—  but  only  on  third  or  fourth-hand  evidence." 

"  I  hope  you  don't  propose  to  get  first-hand,"  said 
Mr.  Warden. 

"  How  you  read  my  thoughts  I  "  said  Violet, 
turning  on  him  again.  "  I  wonder  now,  is  there 
anything  especially  fascinating  about  the  Brixton 
part  of  London?  " 

"  Except  that  most  of  the  music-hall  population 
lives  there, —  nothing  particular." 

"  Violet,"  said  her  father.  "  I  warn  you  I  shall 
draw  the  line." 

"You  are  all  interrupting  me  terribly,"  said 
Violet,  sinking  back  with  an  expression  of  bitter  re- 
proach. ' '  Mother  is  waiting  for  the  end  of  a  sentence 
I  started  minutes  ago." 

Eveleen  lifted  her  eyebrows,  and  the  gentlemen 
held  their  breath;  for  no  one  in  their  hearts  doubted 
the  leadership  in  this  artlessly  instituted  controversy. 
Evidently  the  crisis  impended  now. 


146  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

"  When  I  lent  Miss  Eccles  my  blue  Italian  regi- 
mental coat,  which  is  the  apple  of  my  eye,  to  copy 
at  home,"  said  Violet,  "  I  asked  her  to  be  so  kind  as 
to  bring  it  back  in  person,  with  some  specimens  of 
her  work,  for  Mother's  sake,  enclosed  in  one  of  the 
art-green  boxes  which  are  part  of  Miss  Lennox's 
stock-in-trade." 

"  The  largest  part,"  said  Warden. 

He  received  no  encouragement  from  his  host's 
daughter,  only  a  withering  glance.  Remembering 
instructions  received  concerning  the  line  to  be 
adopted  in  this  interview,  he  scratched  his  head  and 
retracted.  It  was  easy  enough,  with  Eveleen,  to 
retract:  for  she  had  not  attended  to  the  discussion, 
so  aptly  aimed  at  her,  in  great  detail.  Only  one 
answer,  indeed, —  a  mere  assent  from  her  daughter, 
—  really  stuck.  Violet  was  a  crazy  Ashwin,  but  her 
instinct  for  the  remote  quality  called  style  ap- 
proached Eveleen's  own.  It  was  the  one  solitary 
point  of  contact  of  their  characters.  She  clutched 
that  floating  straw  of  fact  therefore,  and  stored  it  as 
likely  to  be  serviceable. 

As  for  the  talking,  she  let  it  flow  past  her.  She 
soon  grew  tired  in  debate,  and  could  not  tolerate 
reflection.  If  events  fell,  fortunately,  one  need  not 
further  disturb  one's  mind;  if  unfortunately,  no 
amount  of  witty  commentary  really  improved  them. 
If  Violet  was  inclined  to  meddle  with  "  rasant " 


LENNOXES  147 

affairs  and  uninteresting  people,  Eveleen  was  well 
enough  pleased  to  shake  her  temporarily  off,  and 
trust  her  to  the  luck  of  the  Ashwins  to  make  her 
mark,  and  even  reflect  some  credit  on  others  at  a 
later  stage.  Claude  had  often  made  such  a  plunge, 
under  the  cloud  of  her  blank  disapproval,  and 
emerged  again,  amazingly  for  Eveleen,  with  every- 
one shaking  him  by  the  hand.  He  had  probably 
encouraged  the  girl  in  this,  and,  during  his  wife's 
absence,  got  the  affair  in  hand.  She  trusted  so,  f^r 
his  sake  and  Violet's.  The  one  thing  she  asked 
was  that  her  daughter  should  not  be  drawn  among 
dowdies.  Common  girls  with  intemperate  mothers 
were  as  nothing,  compared  with  the  horror  of  that. 
Such  persons  could  easily  be  disposed  of  later, — 
dowdies  could  not.  Mrs.  Ashwin,  as  Violet  judged 
acutely,  would  not  for  worlds  have  had  Miss 
Lennox  upon  her  visiting-list.  But  here  was  Miss 
Lennox  neatly  introduced  as  Lucas  Warden's  early 
love, —  and  attached  to  a  girl  with  style.  It  was  a 
very  happy  combination,  worthy  of  Violet's  intelli- 
gence; and  it  had,  by  the  usual  slow  degrees,  the 
effect  that  Violet  hoped  and  intended. 

Quite  late  that  night,  when  he  least  expected  it, 
Eveleen  concluded  the  girl's  affair  with  Claude. 

She  began,  so  indirectly  as  to  mislead  him,  on  the 
subject  of  Warden,  who  had  at  last  left  the  house, 


148  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

having  shown  himself  more  entertaining  than  usual, 
—  to  the  others,  that  is.    Eveleen  had  been  bored. 

"  I  wish  Violet  would  not  fasten  her  eyes  on 
people  in  that  silly  manner,"  she  observed.  "  Men 
like  it  even  less  than  women." 

"  I  like  it,"  said  Claude.  "  It's  a  mark  of  at- 
tention." 

"It  is  not,"  said  Eveleen.  " It's  a  mark  of  in- 
attention quite  as  often.  Besides,"  she  added,  "  it's 
perfectly  possible  to  attend  without."  Her  own  eyes, 
far  from  offending  in  the  manner  to  which  she 
alluded,  were  on  her  husband's  sleeve,  where  the 
slightest  mark  of  chalk  was  visible.  "  I  wish,"  she 
said,  with  unusual  liveliness,  "  if  you  must  play  low 
games,  Claude,  you  would  not  go  about  looking  like 
a  billiard-marker." 

Dr.  Ashwin  snicked  the  chalk  off  absently.  He 
had  been  graciously  allowed  his  game,  though 
rather  late,  and  he  felt  the  better  for  it.  Billiards 
was  one  of  his  rare  diversions,  as  it  was  also  one  of 
the  half-dozen  directions  in  which  he  was  assured 
he  might  have  made  his  fortune,  had  he  wished. 

"  Better  low  games  of  skill  than  high  ones  of 
chance,"  he  suggested  in  his  deliberate  tone.  "  You 
ought  really  to  be  thankful  my  tastes  are  so  in- 
nocuous." Having  waited  for  any  comment  in  vain, 
he  proceeded.  "  Warden  is  a  bore,  of  course,  but  no 
harm  in  him.    You  had  not  wanted  me  to  do  any- 


LENNOXES  149 

thing  about  anything,  had  you?  Puss  enjoys  her 
perambulations."  He  looked  at  her  anxiously  rather. 
Some  matters  he  really  had  to  leave  to  her. 

"'  It's  silly,"  said  Eveleen.  "  However,  I  suppose 
she  will  go  on  doing  it.  No,  there's  no  harm." 
Claude  was  relieved.  *'  We  can't  hire  Warden  to 
take  her  down  there  every  morning,  however,"  said 
Eveleen,  examining  her  nails. 

"  To  Battersea*?  "  His  mind  leapt  in  front  of 
hers.  "  Oh,  that  can  be  managed.  You  think  she 
might  do  it,  then?  " 

"  She's  not  a  baby,"  said  Eveleen.  "  And  if  she 
must  have  fads  and  fancies,  she  had  better  get 
through  with  them.  Later  on,  she'd  only  have  them 
worse." 

"Would  she?"  The  doctor  looked  at  her  ex- 
pectantly: thus  stated,  the  case  of  Violet  sounded 
more  familiar  than  he  had  feared.  "  I  think  I  can 
answer  for  her  doing  it  thoroughly,"  he  said,  "  if  she 
does  it  at  all.  But  —  she's  at  the  age  for  discoveries, 
you  know.  It  will  colour  her."  He  spoke  in  jerks, 
still  watching  his  wife  in  quick  flashes, —  glances 
that  asked  for  help. 

"  I  suppose  it's  a  clean  place,"  said  Eveleen. 

"  I  shan't  suppose  anything  without  seeing  k," 
he  answered  brusquely.  "The  woman  has  some 
hygienic  ideas,  I  made  sure  of  that.  As  for  exercise, 
I  stipulated  for  her  starting  at  ten.     Then,  if  she 


ISO  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

rides  in  the  morning,  as  she  proposes,  and  retires 
early,  she'll  do  pretty  well."  He  turned  his  back  to 
his  wife  on  the  hearth,  and  paused.  "  One  knows 
what  the  craving  is  for  anything  mechanical,"  he 
said.  "  Well-regulated.  We  ill-regulated  people 
need  it  most  of  all.  That  part  of  it  I  followed  easily, 
from  the  first.  But  the  rest, —  it's  a  flat  business, — 
ugly.  And  once  in  the  wood  you  can't  escape.  There 
was  Margaret, —  she  lived  wincing, —  I  should  know. 
And  she  had  Gibbs  to  fall  back  on,  at  the  worst." 

"  You're  making  too  much  of  it,  I  should  say," 
remarked  Eveleen. 

"  I  hope  so,"  he  said  fervently.  "  Perhaps." 
Another  interval  ensued,  broken  again  by  him. 
"  That  Eccles  girl  she  mentioned,"  he  said.  "  I  asked 
Arthur  Gibbs  about  her, —  got  all  he  knew.  There's 
no  harm  there, —  trouble,  but  no  harm.  She's  a  girl 
with  a  grievance  against  society, —  not  what  you 
suppose."  He  had  not  seen  Eveleen  move  her  head, 
—  could  not  possibly,  indeed,  since  his  back  was 
turned.  "  Her  father  was  an  honest  mechanic,  and 
married  a  well-bred  goose.  Society  can't  prevent  its 
happening,  unfortunately.  She  ran  away  with  her 
bicycle  teacher, —  it  may  often  have  occurred,  for  all 
I  know.  I  daresay  he  never  ceased  regretting  it, 
nor  his  daughter  after  him." 

"  Nor  the  wife,  I  should  think,"  said  Eveleen.    She 


LENNOXES  151 

had  no  objection  to  hearing  stories,  even  told  in  such 
a  snappy,  disconnected  fashion,  "  Turn  round  and 
talk  properly,  Claude,"  she  said.  "  If  you  mean  to 
talk." 

He  turned  obedient  to  direction.  Eveleen  studied 
his  figure  with  gratification.  The  bar  the  considera- 
tion of  Violet  caused  was  in  his  brow.  He  looked, 
as  his  daughter  had  looked  at  dinner,  exaggeratedly 
miserable.  But  even  to  Eveleen's  eye,  which  habit- 
ually overlooked  the  unusual  in  face  and  form,  he 
was  a  "  smart  "  man, —  astonishingly  young-looking 
for  all  his  multifarious  agitations. 

"  The  wife's  a  tragi-comedy,"  he  informed  her. 
"  Puss  was  right:  it's  not  so  far  from  the  Nickleby 
situation.  I  have  not  gone  into  it  very  deeply,  of 
course " 

"  Have  you  at  all^ "  said  Eveleen,  passingly 
amazed.  Claude's  fragments  of  information,  shot 
at  her  at  all  seasons,  were  so  unaccountable. 

"  Oh,  well, —  Gibbs  said  drink,  you  know,  and 
that's  nasty.  I  thought  you  wouldn't  stand  that. 
Luckily,  I  learnt  it  had  been  a  hospital  case:  so 
I  investigated  easily." 

"  Oh,"  said  Eveleen,  with  vague  disgust.  "  I'm 
not  sure  I  want  to  know." 

"  Not  if  I  promise  you  entertainment?  It's  un- 
heard-of, for  sheer  oddity,  in  my  experience.    The 


152  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

mother  is  a  silly  die-away  woman,  a  poor  curate's 
daughter,  Gibbs  heard, —  one  of  twins  in  a  large 
family " 

"  Goodness,  Claude  I    What  can  that  matter*?  " 

"  I  thought  it  might  help  a  little, —  I  own  it's  not 
the  point.  The  point  is  that  she  does  drink, —  tea. 
She  overdrinks  it.  Not  but  what  it's  dangerous,"  he 
added  swiftly.  "  But  perfectly  refined,  as  a  failing. 
That's  the  point." 

"  It  seems  to  have  amused  you,"  said  Eveleen, 
after  a  pause. 

"  Well,  you  see,  I  had  been  a  little  vexed  in  mind," 
he  apologised.  "  Doesn't  it  strike  you  the  girl  —  the 
daughter  —  must  be  something  of  a  character?  The 
charge  rests  on  her  assertion." 

"  You  mean  she  goes  round  saying  her  mother 
drinks?" 

"  That's  what  I  mean.  She  told  her  employer  so, 
and  the  Rector's  wife  some  years  back:  quarters, 
do  you  see,  where  it  was  bound  to  damage  her, —  she 
with  her  living  to  get.  What  she  means  by  it,  I 
should  really  like  to  know.  Perhaps  Violet  will  find 
out." 

"  I'm  sure  I  hope  she  won't,"  said  Eveleen.  She 
had  ceased  to  be  astonished  at  what  the  Ashwins 
found  amusing.  It  may  have  been  in  the  same 
category  as  their  superannuated  taste  for  Dickens. 
However,  she  made  an  effort  of  memory,  just  to  be 


LENNOXES  153 

up  to  him.  "That's  the  girl  Warden  admired,  is 
it?  "  she  said.     "  The  one  he  had  known  in  youth." 

"  No  —  no, —  no  I  "  he  said,  with  surprising  vivac- 
ity. "  Excuse  me.  You  are  contusing  the  two 
cases.  The  one  Warden  had  known  in  youth  was  the 
plain  and  irreproachable  Miss  Lennox,  who  is  hedged 
about  on  all  sides  with  clerical  relations." 

"  Oh,  then  I  was  wrong,"  said  Eveleen.  "  Not 
that  it  matters." 

"  Not  at  all,"  said  he,  relapsing. 

"  I  wonder  you're  so  excited,"  she  said.  "  I  sup- 
pose it's  that  game." 

He  broke  down  and  laughed.  "  If  you  had  seen 
the  game,"  he  protested.     "  It  really  can't  be  that.'* 

"Well  then,  you  are  fussing,  as  usual.  What's 
the  good  *?" 

"  No  good.  I  fuss  to  no  account.  It's  my  des- 
picable nature."  He  smiled  at  her,  his  pleasant 
youthful  smile.  "  But  I'll  tell  you  one  thing,  Evie: 
the  idea  of  Miss  Kate  attracts  me." 

"Kate'?" 

"  Yes.  Nickleby,  you  know.  I'd  give  something 
to  see  Miss  Eccles." 

"  Well,  you  won't  if  I  can  help  it,"  said  Eveleen: 
but  she  said  it  in  the  depths  of  her  clear  and  quiet 
soul.  "  Come  to  bed,  Claude,"  she  said  aloud,  sweep- 
ing in  her  wandering  skirts  after  an  interval.  "  I'm 
tired  anyhow,  and  you  ought  to  be.     Of  course,  I 


154  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

know  you  can  never  stop  talking  —  when  you're 
relieved." 

"  Relieved'?  "  he  ejaculated,  as  she  rose. 

"  Yes,"  said  Eveleen,  rolling  out  her  lip  with  her 
slow  smile,  her  back  half  turned  to  him.  "  You  are 
so  absurd.  You  go  chattering  by  the  yard  together, 
you  and  Violet.  What  you  ought  to  do  is  to  thank 
me, —  both  of  you, —  for  letting  you  off  so  easily." 


Ill 


THE  TALE  OF  A  WINK 


Lucas  Warden  was  wrong. 

Miss  Lennox  and  Miss  Eccies, —  the  young  lady 
"  in  black  with  a  waist," —  had  not  been  quarrelling 
the  day  Miss  Ashwin  and  her  escort  came  upon 
them  so  suddenly;  for  Miss  Lennox,  the  so-called 
proprietress  of  the  business  at  Battersea,  was,  and 
had  been  for  long,  as  wax  in  her  forewoman's  hands. 

Lennoxes,  to  use  the  term  the  staff  applied  to  it 
invariably,  consisted  of  a  single  long  room  on  the 
upper  floor  of  a  respectable  house,  jammed  between 
two  shops  in  a  crowded  street  of  the  suburb.  It  was 
a  hot  room  in  summer,  facing  south;  but  the  de- 
parted Miss  Moffat  had  chosen,  and  Miss  Lennox 
adored  it.  It  had  a  top-light,  which  is  always  an 
artistic  asset,  but  which  was  of  singularly  little  profit 
to  the  workwomen,  since  the  light  was  shut  out  by 
an  art  green  blind.  The  blind  failed  entirely,  on 
the  other  hand,  to  shut  out  the  heat,  which  in  the 
dog-days  was  apt  to  be  stifling. 

Miss  Lennox,  living  up  to  the  top-light,  had  added 
a  plain  linoleum  and  tinted  walls,  with  a  blue  vase 


156  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

on  the  table,  which  Miss  Eccles,  who  had  connec- 
tions in  the  gardening  profession,  kept  daily  supplied 
with  flowers.  The  room  was  divided  half-heartedly 
into  two  with  a  flimsy  curtain,  on  the  door-side  of 
which  the  clients  interviewed  the  principal,  upon  a 
limited  piece  of  carpet.  On  the  window-side  the 
staff,  consisting  of  Miss  Eccles  and  a  short  girl 
called  Sally  Pepper,  sat  and  sewed;  in  the  company 
of  one  of  those  headless  beauties,  whose  claim  to 
admiration  consists  of  a  fair  human  semblance  to 
the  waist-line,  and  fashion  in  the  abstract  beneath 
it,  in  the  form  of  a  wire  cage.  On  the  mantelshelf, 
in  headless,  silent  rivalry,  stood  a  cast  of  the  winged 
Victory,  to  cheer  Miss  Lennox's  young  woman  with 
ideals  of  drapery.  Miss  Eccles,  if  her  eye  chanced 
to  fall  on  it  in  the  course  of  her  vigorous  and  varied 
labours,  could  hardly  ever  avoid  a  sniff. 

Alice  Eccles  had  been  taken  in  the  original  instance 
"  for  charity  " ;  from  which  date,  as  may  frequently 
happen  with  a  young  person  of  spirit  in  the  cir- 
cumstances, she  never  let  Miss  Lennox  forget  it,  or 
failed  to  make  her  feel  her  resentment.  Alice, 
transfixed  in  a  lady-like  studio  at  Battersea,  was 
good,  in  her  own  opinion,  for  far  better  things. 
Nature  had  turned  her  out  a  healthy  animal,  tall, 
elastic,  charged  to  the  finger-tips  with  youthful 
magnetism  and  powerful  grace.  Nature,  being  in  an 
indulgent  mood,  no  doubt,   when  Miss  Alice  was 


LENNOXES  157 

in  the  cradle,  had  added  what  was  barely  necessary 
for  strictly  trade  purposes,  a  fine  oval  face,  with 
straight  features,  straight  brows,  and  a  pair  of 
brilliant  long  brown  eyes.  Alice,  a  bright  girl,  had 
supplemented  Nature  vigorously  on  her  own  account. 
Catching  hints  at  intervals  from  her  mother,  who' 
kept  the  relics  of  a  delicate  training,  Alice  had  cul- 
tivated an  accent  and  a  manner, —  a  wonderful 
manner, —  warranted  to  pulverise  the  ordinary  West 
London  buyer  in  a  fashionable  shop.  On  the  strength 
of  these  attributes  alone,  she  would  have  been  taken 
"  like  a  shot," —  so  she  assured  Miss  Lennox, —  for  a 
first-floor  department,  by  any  enterprising  manager 
to  whom  she  presented  herself;  and  she  was  ready 
with  lists  of  young  ladies  in  high  departmental  posi- 
tions, who  could  not  be  said,  at  least  by  Miss  Eccles, 
to  possess  a  quarter  of  her  own  advantages. 

But  fate  was  against  Alice.  She  had  been,  as  she 
confided  to  Violet  towards  the  close  of  the  second 
week,  "  wrecked  on  respectability."  She  had  spared 
Miss  Lennox,  who  was  what  Alice  called  "  twittery  " 
about  some  things,  an  introduction  to  this  striking 
phrase;  but  to  her  own  mind  it  represented,  as  was 
evident,  the  summary  of  her  whole  career,  from  ten 
years'  old  when  she  first  took  charge  of  her  mother, 
to  her  present  mature  age  of  twenty. 

"  I'm  made  to  work  with  men,"  confided  Alice. 
"  Men  take  to  me  naturally,  and  I'd  have  stood  no 


158  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

nonsense  from  them,  if  I'd  been  let  my  way,  and 
given  my  chance.  But  do  you  think,  brought  up  as 
I've  been,  I'd  be  allowed  to  look  one  of  'em  in  the 
eyes?    Oh,  my  dear  I" 

Violet  was  Alice's  dear  at  quite  an  early  stage  o^ 
their  intercourse,  not  so  much  from  affection,  as  for 
effect.  Violet,  as  Charles  had  found,  was  a  perfectly 
charming  listener;  and  Alice,  who  had  grievances 
stored  up  and  running  over,  could  not  long  resist  an 
ear  offered  from  a  girl  of  her  own  age.  She  stood  on 
her  dignity  and  sniffed  at  intervals  through  the  first 
week  or  so  of  Violet's  apprenticeship;  and  having 
thus  had  leisure  to  sum  up  all  her  mincing  absurdities, 
with  exaggeration,  for  the  benefit  of  four  or  five 
young  ladies  who  travelled  daily  with  her  in  the 
tram  from  Brixton,  she  relented  suddenly:  turning 
right-about-face  in  the  course  of  a  single  morning,  in 
a  manner  of  which  only  such  a  powerfully  cock-sure 
young  person  could  have  been  capable. 

This  singular  revolution  began  in  an  almost  in- 
voluntary fashion,  by  a  wink:  a  wink  while  Miss 
Lennox,  in  the  further  part  of  the  room,  was  inter- 
viewing a  customer.  This  wink  arose  from  what 
might  be  called  subjective  emotion,  and  might  have 
been  directed  anywhere;  only,  granted  Violet's 
presence  within  three  feet  of  Miss  Eccles,  and  de- 
murely sewing,  it  was  more  natural  to  wink  at  her 
than  at  Sally  Pepper,  or  the  furniture.    Miss  Ashwin 


LENNOXES  159 

replied  with  a  glance,  not  visibly  humorous,  more 
of  a  kind  of  din,  far-reaching  despair,  and  com- 
bined with  a  pretty  slight  movement  of  the  shoulders. 
But  the  understanding  thus  instituted  could  not  be 
entirely  ignored  in  their  subsequent  relations.  The 
frozen  surface  shivered,  so  to  speak:  and  ere  long 
the  pent-up  flood  of  Alice's  confidence  was  smashing 
the  remaining  icicles  in  all  directions. 

Violet,  with  beautiful  tact,  remained  demure. 
She  would  not  assume,  merely  because  Alice  ceased 
sniffing  and  talked  to  her,  that  she  was  loved  by 
Alice.  Indeed  it  was  only  too  obvious  that,  on  many 
counts.  Miss  Eccles  still  despised  her  heartily.  So 
Violet,  feeling  despicable,  naturally,  in  the  wilder- 
ness of  her  ignorance  of  "  bindings,"  braids  and 
"  bias,"  and  of  the  petty  meannesses  of  customers  in 
the  matter  of  remnants,  preserved  the  forms  with 
practised  social  knowledge,  keeping  a  guiding  hand, 
for  all  Miss  Eccles'  plunging,  on  their  intercourse 
unseen. 

Violet  was  "  my  dear "  three  times  during  the 
morning  of  the  wink;  and  Miss  Lennox,  overhear- 
ing the  appellation,  was  rather  shocked.  Miss 
Lennox  was  a  working-woman,  and,  in  theory,  a 
leveller;  but  it  did  not  seem  right  or  natural  to  her 
that  poor  Alice  Eccles  should  patronise  Miss  Ashwin. 
Alice,  for  all  her  managing  instincts,  and  the  un- 
tameable  brilliance  of  her  presence,  remained  "  poor 


i6o  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

Alice  "  to  Miss  Lennox,  by  virtue  of  her  circum- 
stances. 

Miss  Lennox  was  one  of  those  astonishing  women 
who  seem  absolutely  blind  to  physical  glory,  in 
whatever  form.  It  was  not  that  she  had  Puritan 
objections  to  thinking  of  such  things,  it  was  simply 
that  she  did  not  see  them.  When  Mr.  Gibbs  had 
called  Alice  in  her  presence  pretty,  which  was  quite 
the  mildest  term  society,  even  clerical,  could  have 
applied  to  her.  Miss  Lennox  had  been  surprised. 
She  was  a  nice,  bright,  healthy  sort  of  girl,  of  course, 
and  Miss  Lennox  saw  all  her  character  very  clearly, 
penetrating  promptly,  as  Mr.  Gibbs  should  have 
done,  to  the  Alice  within.  She  saw  her  wisely,  in 
short, —  not  well. 

That  character,  as  she  had  earnestly  assured  Mr. 
Gibbs  and  Dr.  Ashwin,  included  some  excellent 
qualities.  Poor  Alice  was  admirably  honest,  for 
instance,  almost  invariably  cheerful,  and, —  if  her 
way  of  speaking  of  her  mother  was  p>eculiar  at  times, 
—  a  tolerant  and  loyal  daughter.  Yet  more  im- 
portant in  Miss  Lennox's  eyes,  she  seemed  to  under- 
stand propriety,  had  crowds  of  girl  acquaintance,  of 
whom  she  chattered  very  amusingly, —  and  never 
spoke  of  gentlemen  at  all.  Miss  Lennox  could  not, 
of  course,  tell  of  what  she  was  thinking,  during  the 
long  periods  of  silence  in  the  workroom,  while  Alice 
snatched  at  the  cotton,  and  sniffed  occasionally.    One 


LENNOXES  161 

does  not  (if  one  is  Miss  Lennox)  follow,  or  want 
to  follow,  all  a  young  girl's  thoughts.  It  was  the 
rarest  thing,  naturally,  for  a  gentleman  to  come 
into  the  workroom ;  but  the  day  Mr.  Lucas  Warden 
had  walked  in  with  Violet,  Alice's  behaviour,  in  her 
principal's  eyes,  had  been  singularly  perfect.  In 
fact.  Miss  Lennox  had  not  been  aware  of  her  in  the 
room  at  all,  during  the  interview  with  her  old  ac- 
quaintance; and  Mr.  Lucas  Warden  had  been  equally 
oblivious  of  her  presence,  as  was  right. 

Miss  Lennox  watched  the  two  girls  in  her  charge, 
of  course,  like  a  faithful  hen;  and  except  during 
the  process  of  shuffling  consequent  upon  lunch  and 
tea  intervals, —  for  it  was  against  her  conscience 
ever  to  leave  the  workroom  empty,  in  case  cus- 
tomers might  call, —  she  was  always  in  their  society. 
A  dear  friend  of  Miss  Lennox's,  who  was  also  an 
earnest  woman,  kept  a  small  lunch-and-tea  shop  but 
a  few  steps  from  her  door.  The  few  steps  were  across 
a  crowded  noisy  street ;  but  Miss  Lennox  was  accus- 
tomed to  the  idea  of  Miss  Eccles  making  those  few 
steps  in  safety.  So  she  let  Miss  Eccles  go  alone, 
and  subsequently  escorted  Violet. 

Violet  had  been  introduced  to  the  earnest  lady 
of  the  tea-shop,  and  her  plain  daughter,  and  had 
thought  everything  on  the  premises  "  quite  delicious," 
with  an  emphasis  that  delighted  both.  Indeed,  all 
Miss    Lennox's    "  nice    arrangements "    had    been 


i62  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

thoroughly  appreciated  by  Violet,  and  were,  the 
head  of  the  firm  had  reason  to  think,  reassuring  the 
home  circle  rapidly.  Miss  Lennox  wrote  to  Mrs. 
Gibbs,  proclaiming  Miss  Ashwin  a  sweet  girl,  and 
really  so  simple.  Confidence,  during  work- time  "  in- 
tervals "  flowed  between  the  pair;  and  many  of  Miss 
Lennox's  private  sufferings,  excellent  impulses,  and 
unnecessary  abnegations,  became  transparent  to 
Violet  during  the  hour  while  tea  cheered  and  liberty 
united  them. 

But,  on  the  day  of  the  wink,  the  fine  social  equilib- 
rium preserved  in  this  trio  of  ladies  changed.  Till 
then,  Violet  had  been  Miss  Lennox's  young  friend, 
and  Alice  their  attribute.  From  the  moment  that 
notable  signal  was  exchanged,  Violet  became  Alice's 
confederate,  and  Miss  Lennox  their  well-meaning 
patroness.  Who  shall  say,  amid  the  war  of  classes, 
and  the  tussle  of  age  and  youth,  how  these  things 
occur? 

It  was  a  mere  chance,  of  course,  that  at  lunch- 
time, —  much  the  longer  interval  of  the  two,  while 
Alice  was  putting  on  her  hat,  a  tooth  of  Alice's, 
which  was  in  an  interesting  condition  to  which  she 
had  alluded  at  intervals  that  morning,  should  "  stab  " 
her  suddenly,  causing  momentary,  but  evidently  ex- 
quisite, pain. 

"  Poor  girl ! "  said  Miss  Lennox,  much  fussed. 
"  What  ought  we  to  do*?  " 


LENNOXES  163 

"  You  ought  to  have  it  out,"  said  Violet  quietly, 
in  the  character  of  the  doctor's  daughter.  "  Let 
me  see." 

Alice  displayed  a  very  white  tooth,  near  the  front, 
complacently.  "  Wouldn't  have  it  out  for  worlds," 
she  said.  "  Not  me.  Spoil  my  beauty  for  life.  I'll 
tell  you  what  I'll  do, —  drop  into  the  chemist  oppo- 
site and  get  him  to  advise  me  something."  The  eye- 
lid of  her  left  eye  sank  very  slightly,  as  Miss  Ashwin 
fixed  her  with  a  grave  regard.  Miss  Lennox,  fussing 
still  more,  said  she  would  go  with  Alice.  She  made 
elaborate  and  impracticable  plans  and  combinations, 
at  great  length. 

"  No,  I  will  go,"  said  Violet,  soothing  but  definite, 
"  because  I  know  what  to  ask  for  exactly.  It's  rather 
a  new  thing.  Miss  Lennox,  and  it  must  be  put  on  at 
once.  Would  you  terribly  mind  lunching  alone  just 
for  to-day  *?  " 

Miss  Lennox  did  mind,  though  not  terribly;  but 
she  saw  no  better  way.  Two  girls  can  consult  a 
chemist  with  propriety;  and  when  she  feebly  sug- 
gested going  to  seek  the  new  remedy  herself,  Violet 
produced  a  name  for  it  so  long  and  latinised  that 
Miss  Lennox's  memory  was  unequal  to  retaining  it. 
It  seemed,  in  fact,  most  simple  for. the  girls  to  go  out 
in  company :  and  Violet  and  Alice  went. 

"  You  rose  to  that,"  said  Miss  Eccles  with  ap- 
proval on  the  stairs,  "  as  smooth  as  sneezing."    This 


i64  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

was  one  of  Alice's  home-grown  phrases,  and  implied 
a  natural  or  impulsive-seeming  action,  to  which  she 
was  addicted,  and  which  in  others  she  admired. 
"  My  tooth's  feeling  better  now,  my  dear,"  she  pro- 
ceeded as  they  attained  the  street,  "  so,  if  it's  all  the 
same  to  you,  we'll  cross  straight  over  to  Casselses." 

Cassilis  was  the  name  of  Miss  Lennox's  earnest 
friend;  but  as  no  girl  can  be  expected  to  add  another 
sibilant  to  such  a  word,  Alice  had  telescoped  the 
title.  They  crossed  straight  over,  as  proposed,  Alice 
taking  Violet's  arm  protectingly. 

As  soon  as  seated,  in  the  elegant  privacy  of 
Casselses'  upper  room,  they  began  at  once  to  talk  of 
their  employer.    That  was,  so  to  speak,  in  the  bond. 

"What's  Loyce'?"  said  Alice.  "I  never  heard 
of  it." 

"  Lois,  it  is  called,"  said  Violet.  "  I  believe  it 
comes  in  the  Bible." 

"  It  doesn't  then,"  said  Alice.  "  I  ought  to  know 
my  Bible,  if  anyone  ever  did.  Mum  is  alwa5's  drop- 
ping bits  of  it.  She's  a  dab  at  Bible-reading,  I  can 
tell  you.    We've  texts  in  every  room  at  home." 

"  Well,  I  will  ask  Father,"  said  Violet.  "  But  I 
believe  it  is  somewhere  in  an  epistle;  and  that's 
where  Scotch  people  go  to  find  their  babies'  names." 

"  Loyce  was  never  a  baby  more  than  at  present," 
said  Alice.    "  Not  according  to  me." 


LENNOXES  165 

"She  is  a  dear,  isn't  she?"  said  Violet.  "But 
don't  call  her  that  upstairs,  or  I  shall  laugh." 

"  Is  your  father  a  preacher?  "  said  Alice.  "  I 
shouldn't  have  thought  it,  to  look  at  you." 

"  Oh  no, —  Father's  a  doctor.  What  on  earth 
made  you  think  that?  I  see,"  she  added  quickly, 
"  the  Bible  name.  But  Father  knows  everything, — 
it's  simply  a  weakness  of  his.  He  is  always  trying 
to  conceal  it." 

"  Ton  know  a  few  things,  I  shouldn't  wonder," 
said  Alice.  "  You've  been  at  several  finishing 
schools,  haven't  you  now?"  She  sniffed,  though 
mildly,  as  she  picked  up  a  radish  by  the  leaves,  and 
bit  it  with  every  appearance  of  health  in  the  teeth 
that  attacked. 

Violet  gravely  shook  her  head.  "  I  am  afraid," 
she  said,  "  I  never  even  -wanted  to  go  to  school.  It's 
rather  awful.  Miss  Eccles,  but  I  feel  I  should  so 
have  disliked  the  other  girls." 

"  You  do  hate  'em,"  said  Alice  reflectively,  "  until 
you  learn  to  work  them  to  your  purposes.  They're 
ready  enough  to  admire,  I'll  say  that  for  them;  but 
unless  you  give  them  a  sharp  lead,  they'll  run  and 
admire  the  wrong  people.  The  sights  I've  seen  set 
up  as  graven  images, —  you  never  did." 

It  was  true  Violet  had  never  done;  she  looked 
at  Alice  yearningly. 


i66  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

"  But  men,"  she  said,  "  are  not  the  same." 

"  No,  men  are  different.  I  give  you  that,"  said 
Alice  graciously.  Slowly,  very  slowly,  in  the  seconds 
that  ensued,  she  smiled  upon  Violet.  "  Oh,  men !  " 
she  said.  "  I  can't  help  it,  my  dear, —  they  do 
beat  all." 

From  that  point  her  real  confidence  started. 
Violet  had  found  the  key  on  sight,  as  it  were,  to  all 
the  things  Miss  Lennox  was  least  likely  ever  to  know. 
Violet  herself  did  not  get  them  all  at  once,  of  course; 
that  between  any  pair  of  girls  would  be  impossible; 
but  she  started  by  instinct  on  the  right  lines,  giving 
Alice's  good  sense  and  good  faith,  as  well  as  her 
superb  attractions,  their  due.  With  that  appear- 
ance, she  must  know  life;  and  she  was  naturally  to 
be  the  talker,  while  Miss  Ashwin  was  content  to  com- 
ment and  enquire.  Just  because  it  was  the  last  atti- 
tude Alice  expected  on  her  part,  she  fell  a  victim  to 
the  guile  more  easily. 

All  the  autobiography  of  which  we  proceed  to  give 
extracts  was  not,  of  course,  collected  the  first  day; 
only,  since  it  is  impossible  to  follow  girls'  divaga- 
tions in  dialogue,  it  shall  be  collected  for  the  student 
of  Miss  Eccles  at  this  point. 

Born  with  a  love  of  adventure,  Alice  had  had,  as 
she  declared  cheerfully,  "  no  luck."  Everything  was 
against  her,  her  birth  most  of  all;  for  there  is  no 
stickler  for  the  conventions  like  the  weak  woman 


LENNOXES  167 

who  has  committed  herself  by  a  social  imprudence, 
and  been  left  clinging,  as  it  were,  to  the  brink. 
"  Thou  shalt  not,"  had  been  multiplied  exceedingly, 
for  the  bicycle-maker's  daughter. 

"  I  never  had  a  scrap  of  fun,"  said  Alice,  "  except 
at  school.  If  I'd  had  a  brother  now, —  but  no  such 
luck.  My  brother  died  a  baby :  at  that  point,  Mother 
lost  her  health  and  got  religion  rather  badly, —  and 
simultaneously,  Father  struck.  Men  can  strike,  you 
may  have  noticed,  Miss  Ashwin,  when  they  have 
had  enough  of  muddling, —  women  can't.  I  was  left 
to  make  the  best  of  Mother  and  the  texts.  She  re- 
proached everyone  with  that  baby's  death,  except 
herself:  but  I  could  never  see  how  it  could  have 
been  Dad's  fault,  anyhow.  But  everything  always 
was  his  fault,  since  his  original  sin  in  marrying  her. 
Mum  was  the  romantic  kind,  if  you  understand; 
never  believed  awkward  things  till  they  were  forced 
down  her  throat.  She  said  he  had  loved  her, —  well^ 
so  he  had,  of  course.  But  I  could  have  told  her 
he  would  not  stand  her  grizzling  for  ever, —  but 
then,  I  know  what  men  are  by  nature,  better  than 
she  does.  It  must  be  by  nature,"  said  Miss  Eccles, 
*'  because  she  never  let  me  get  experience  of  my  own. 
And  her  experience,  which  she's  never  tired  of  giv- 
ing me,  is  that  you  marry  the  first  man  you  mash, 
or  who  mashes  you,  and  toddle  into  a  life  as  pretty 
as  a  musical  comedy.    Well,  you  don't.    I  wonder," 


i68  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

said  Alice  grimly,  "  what  would  have  happened  to 
her,  if  I  had  followed  out  that  plan'?  She  carried 
out  the  first  part  all  right,  but  both  of  us  together 
couldn't  bring  off  the  second.  The  music  was  want- 
ing,—  Mum  changed  a  bit, —  and  Father,  as  was 
natural,  changed  too.  He  was  a  jolly  man,  Father, 
a  thorough  good  sort.  Good  at  his  trade  too, —  sold 
capital  stuff.  At  home  he  was  sulky.  I  could  have 
managed  him  if  she'd  let  me;  but  she  said  he  was 
growing  coarse,  and  tried  to  keep  him  from  me.  I 
lost  my  temper  at  last,  and  gave  up  interfering  be- 
tween them.  Whereupon  Dad  walked  off  for  good, 
and  was  killed  in  a  motor  smash  soon  after.  That 
was  bad  luck  for  me  too " 

"  Bad  luck*?  "  gasped  Violet,  paling. 

"  Well,  you  know  what  I  mean.  No,  you  don't," 
Alice  corrected  sharply,  "  because  you're  fond  of 
your  father,  and  I  shouldn't  have  said  it.  You 
needn't  faint  anyhow,  Miss  Ashwin,  it's  not  worth 
it.  W^hat  I  mean  is,  I  had  just  begun  to  get  control 
of  Mother  before  it  happened,  but  as  a  widow  she 
recovered  all  her  glory." 

"  Glory*?  "  said  Violet,  at  sea.    Alice  nodded. 

"  Mother's  sort  is  like  that :  nothing  really  sets 
them  up  in  life  like  a  widow's  veil.  I  can't  explain 
it,  because  personally  I'd  sooner  have  the  man:  but 
that's  my  vulgarity."  Alice  stopped  and  looked  at 
her  vis-a-vis. 


LENNOXES  169 

"Yes?  "said  Violet. 

"Well,— isn't  it'?" 

"  It  may  be.  I  agree  with  you.  Memories  alone, 
to  live  with,  are  rather  selfish  things." 

"  They  are,"  said  Miss  Eccles,  and  sighed.  "  One 
would  have  thought  you'd  lived  with  Mother,  saying 
that.  She  doesn't  think  much  of  other  people."  The 
girl  frowned  a  minute.  "  I'm  not  sentimental  a 
scrap,"  she  said,  "  but  I'd  like  to  live  a  bit  in  my  way. 
Though  my  way  isn't  hers,  by  chalks." 

"  Mothers  are  strange  things,"  said  Violet  pen- 
sively. "  Interesting.  I  should  like  to  meet  Mrs. 
Eccles." 

"  As  a  kind  of  society  proper-thing-to-say,"  said 
Alice.  She  turned  a  gleam  on  Violet.  "  But  you 
wouldn't,  you  know, —  Mother  drinks." 

There  was  a  pause.  Violet's  brow  knit  painfully, 
and  the  faintest  flush  appeared.  Then  she  lifted  her 
eyes  to  Alice. 

"  How  sad,"  she  said.    "  Can't  you  stop  her*?  " 

"  No,  nor  want  to,"  said  Alice.  "  She's  that  dis- 
agreeable when  I  do." 

"  I  think,"  said  Violet  gravely,  "  that  you  are  a 
frightfully  satirical  person,  Miss  Eccles.  I  hardly 
know  if  you're  sincere." 

"  Don't  you,  my  pretty  pet,"  said  Alice  playfully. 
"  Well,  so  long  as  I  do,  I  can't  see  it  matters.  Now, 
listen  here,  and  I'll  tell  you.     I  always  tell  people 


170  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

this  at  first  go  off,  just  to  see  how  it  strikes  them, 
and  prove  all  their  nice  instincts.  Mother  drinks 
more  than  she  ought  to.  She's  absolutely  dependent 
on  it,  and  gets  cunning  and  silly  when  she's  pre- 
vented. All  that's  a  fact.  Doctor's  forbidden  her 
to  exceed  a  certain  quantity,  or  she'll  pay  for  it. 
That's  a  fact,  too.  She  pays  money  out  for  the  stuff, 
—  my  money, —  but  if  she  goes  on  she'll  pay  some- 
thing more  than  that, —  you  understand?  She's 
been  in  hospital  once.  And  she  goes  on  in  spite, — 
she's  mad  on  it,  lost  all  conscience  and  command. 
She  says  she'd  sooner  die  than  stop.  There  I  Ever 
come  across  that  situation,  in  your  set?  " 

"  Not  exactly.  Not  with  drinking,  I  mean,"  said 
Miss  Ashwin  thoughtfully.  "  With  smoking  of 
course  I  have.    Some  women  I  know " 

"Women?"  Alice  was  momentarily  aghast. 
Evidently,  that  form  of  vice  was  unknown  at  Brix- 
ton, and  for  an  appreciable  instant  the  tables  were 
turned.  Then  she  snatched  the  lead  again.  "  Well, 
that's  my  Mother,"  she  said.  "  Never  mind  the  other 
people.  Nice  look-out  for  me,  don't  you  think,  with 
that  tied  on  to  me?  " 

"  It  does  seem  hard  on  you,"  said  Violet. 

"  She's  a  nice  woman,  you  know,"  said  Alice 
swiftly.  "A  thorough  lady;  stayed  with  a  Bishop 
once.     There's  nothing  else  against  her,  anywhere. 


LENNOXES  171 

She  won't  mix  with  the  neighbours,  but  what  do 
you  expect?  She  never  let  me  accept  an  invitation 
in  the  neighbourhood.  She  only  lives  there  because 
it  is  Father's  house,  and  she'd  never  be  able  to  let 
it.  She  knows  no  one  but  the  clergyman,  who's  got 
no  family.  It  was  through  him  I  got  this  job,  and 
a  precious  fuss  there  was  about  my  taking  it,  I 
promise  you  I  I  was  ashamed,  the  trouble  she  gave 
him  and  Mr.  Gibbs  about  it  —  Mr.  Gibbs  had  this 
parish  then.  I  suppose  you'd  have  heard  all  that. 
Mr.  Gibbs  answered  to  Mum  for  Loyce's  character 
and  habits  • " 

Miss  Eccles  concluded  by  a  slight  but  perfectly 
eloquent  contortion  of  her  features. 

"  It's  delightful  your  knowing  Uncle  Arthur,"  said 
Violet.  "  I  had  forgotten  that.  Did  you  know  Aunt 
Margaret  too?  " 

"  Mum  did.  I  never  saw  her  to  remember.  I 
remember  your  uncle  though, —  he  seemed  sensible 
enough." 

"Didn't  my  aunt?" 

"  I  can't  say.  Mum  seemed  to  think  her  skittish 
—  I  mean  for  a  parson's  wife.  Mum  disapproved  of 
her  —  what  are  you  laughing  at,  Miss  Ashwin?  I 
hope  Mum  told  them  truth  about  me, —  but  of  course 
I  couldn't  be  sure."    She  looked  enquiring. 

"  You  want  to  know  what  he  said  about  you? 


172  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

Let  me  think,"  said  Violet.  "  He  chiefly  remem- 
bered you  were  pretty,  of  course ;  but  I  think  he  was 
a  little  bit  anxious  for  Miss  Lennox." 

Alice  smiled.  "  For  the  china"?  "  she  enquired 
sarcastically.  "  I  remember  now,  I  was  in  a  temper 
the  day  he  came  to  call.  I  take  you  to  witness,  Miss 
Ash  win,  I've  broken  nothing  in  the  workroom  yet. 
Those  are  the  same  ornaments  we've  had  since  I 
came.  The  angel  on  the  mantelpiece  is  broken 
already,  but  that's  not  my  fault, —  she  was  born  so. 
By  the  way,  what's  the  sense  of  that,  do  you  happen 
to  know"?" 

"  The  angel  ^  "  Violet's  forehead  lifted.  "  Oh, 
you  mean  the  Nike  of  Samothrace.  Don't  you  think 
she's  rather  beautiful  ?  " 

"  She  might  be,"  said  Alice.  "  On  the  other  hand, 
she  might  not.  It  leaves  you  doubtful,  not  having 
the  head."  There  was  a  pause,  and  the  course  of 
the  dialogue  hung  uncertain  for  a  minute  or  so; 
then,  since  Miss  Ashwin  refused  to  lead,  Alice  had 
to  start  fresh, —  on  a  slightly  lower  plane,  perhaps. 
But  Miss  Eccles,  for  all  her  high-handedness,  was 
only  twenty. 

She  tilted  her  head  a  little  to  the  side,  folded  her 
hands,  and  said, —  "  So  your  uncle  thought  me 
pretty,  did  he?" 

"  He  used  stronger  expressions,  when  pressed," 
said  Violet.    "  And  I  naturally  pressed  him." 


LENNOXES  173 

Alice  looked  down  at  her  hands,  exhibiting  a  fine 
array  of  eyelashes  as  she  did  so.  "I  take  after  my 
father,"  she  explained.  "  It's  not  my  fault,  and  I 
don't  see  why  it  should  be  thrown  up  at  me  con- 
tinually. No  one  entering  on  life  could  look  at  Mum 
and  Dad  and  have  a  minute's  doubt  which  was  the 
line  to  follow  in  looks.  Dad's  was  a  handsome 
stock:  the  cousins  I  used  to  go  to  see  in  Devonshire 
were  the  same.  Farmers  they  were, —  once  I  stayed 
there  a  month,  and  came  back  as  fat  —  Mum  was 
ashamed  of  me.  She  would  never  let  me  go  again, 
though  the}'  were  kind  —  my  word  I  "  A  pause.  "  I 
do  love  the  country,"  said  Alice. 

"I  knew  that  already,"  said  Violet.  "I  knew 
when  I  watched  you  arranging  those  roses  yesterday 
in  Miss  Lennox's  blue  bowl." 

Miss  Eccles  looked  at  her,  a  wavering  look.  It 
meant,  more  to  come  when  confidence  should  be  ripe. 
"  Yes,"  she  said.  "  Well,  what  was  I  saying'?  I 
chose  to  take  after  the  Eccles  side,  and  Mum's  never 
quite  forgiven  me.  I've  done  everything  she  told 
me  to,  kept  myself  low,  minced  my  walking,  flattened 
my  hair.  I  can  talk  uppishly,  can't  I,  now?  You 
heard  me  at  Mrs.  Fellowes  to-day.  I've  worn  weeds 
as  long  as  Mum  did,  like  any  blessed  widow;  but 
it  couldn't  be  supposed  at  sixteen  I'd  look  like  one, 
could  it*?  Father  died  in  my  sixteenth  year.  What 
would  you  feel  like,  Miss  Ashwin,  wearing  rusty 


174  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

black,  when  a  bit  of  yellow  was  your  private  taste  *?  " 
"  You  would  look  lovely  in  yellow,"  said  Violet. 
"  Primrose  yellow :  and  so  very  few  people  really 
can." 

"  I  look  well  in  black,  if  it  comes  to  that,"  said 
Alice,  sniffing.  "  But  it's  not  Mum's  fault  if  I  don't 
look  like  a  walking  slop-shop.  That's  what  would 
satisfy  her.  She  and  Loyce  would  agree  nicely, — 
Nikky  on  the  mantelpiece  is  their  line.  Mum  lives 
herself  in  a  dressing-gown, —  ways  I  hate. 
Well,  what  was  I  saying,  my  dear,  before  we  touched 
on  this?" 


IV 

WOMEN   AND   FOREWOMEN 

And  about  here  it  may  be  mentioned,  once  for  all,  in 
order  not  utterly  to  revolt  our  more  serious  readers, 
that  these  two  young  persons  "  touched  on  "  clothes 
in  their  converse  not  infrequently.  One  has  met 
other  girls  of  eighteen  to  twenty  who  did  the  same; 
and  with  one  of  these  two  at  least  it  was  a  pro- 
fessional interest. 

Alice  was  an  artist  born.  Since  the  days  when  she 
snipped  stuff  to  fit  her  dolls,  her  true  vocation  had 
summoned  her.  Her  artist's  eye  unclothed  the 
human  model,  judged  and  refitted  them  with  the 
colours  and  draperies  their  "  points  "  demanded.  She 
acted  unconsciously  and  on  inspiration  in  the  matter, 
and  like  all  true  artists,  who  have  not  the  critic's 
gift  to  explain  the  intangible  canons  of  taste,  she 
was  desperately  impatient  with  those  who  failed  to 
see  as  she  did  instantly. 

Miss  Lennox, —  Loyce,  as  she  continued  mis- 
chievously to  call  her, —  had  caused  Alice,  as  she  had 
caused  Violet,  genuine  pain;  for  Alice  had  an 
affection  for  Miss  Lennox  at  the  root,  though  she 


176  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

refused  to  recognise  the  presence  of  gratitude  among 
its  ingredients.  It  was  Alice,  "  between  ourselves, 
my  dear,"  who  had  made  the  reputation  of  Lennoxes; 
and  it  was  "  Loyce  "  who  was  constantly  betraying 
their  common  undertaking  by  her  inappropriate 
appearance,  and  unskilful  advice  to  customers. 
Countless  times,  according  to  Miss  Eccles,  she  had 
stepped  in  at  a  critical  moment,  averted  incredible 
colour-schemes  which  the  customers  ordained,  and  to 
which  Miss  Lennox  smilingly  agreed,  proposed  the 
possible  compromise,  and  reached  it  by  skilful  flat- 
tery; or,  at  the  worst,  lent  such  distinction  by  her 
own  clean  cutting  and  smart  workmanship  to  an 
ungrateful  and  ugly  order,  that  Lennoxes  need  not 
blush  in  sending  it  out. 

"  I've  done  everything  for  her,"  said  Alice  of 
Loyce,  on  the  day  of  the  wink,  when  they  sat  together 
lunching  at  Casselses,  "  and  what,  after  all,  has  she 
done  for  me*?  Paid  me  the  skimpy  half  of  what 
I  should  be  getting  in  a  good  shop.  Driven  me  wild 
and  spoilt  my  temper  with  her  twittering  and  second 
thoughts  where  there's  only  one  thought  possible, 
and  that's  different  from  hers.  Wheedled  me  back 
against  my  conscience  when  I'd  given  notice:  pre- 
tended I'd  not  insulted  her  when  I  had.  Given  me 
green  walls  and  the  lower  half  of  a  Greek  statue  to 
look  at,  to  raise  my  tone.  Kept  me  a  lady, —  hasn't 
she?     Why,  at  this  minute  she's  twittering  at  the 


LENNOXES  177 

idea  of  our  hobnobbing  for  half  an  hour,  and  won- 
dering what  your  uncle  would  say  about  it.  Don't 
I  know  I  Fine  lot  of  lady  about  me,  anyway, — 
ask  anyone  who  really  knows.  Or,  if  you  don't  want 
the  trouble, —  look  in  that  glass  over  there  at  me 
and  you." 

"  I  had  rather  look  at  you,""  said  Violet  quietly. 
"  I  had  rather  not  see  myself  beside  you,  if  it's  all 
pretty  as  a  musical  comedy.  Well, —  you  don't.  I 
the  same  to  you.  Miss  Eccles.  I  am  facing  the  light, 
which  is  never  becoming,  and  the  tip  of  one's  nose 
is  hardly  dependable  in  this  heat.  .  .  .  Instead, 
I  want  most  terribly, —  I  simply  ache  to  set  you 
right  about  some  things,  and  give  you  a  bit  of  my 
mind  on  certain  subjects.  Only,  I  am  afraid  if  I  do, 
you  will  return  to  your  original  Arctic  altitude." 

"  My  what^  "  said  Alice. 

"  Your  high  horse.  What  I  may  call  the  Mrs. 
Fellowes  manner,  which  reduces  me  to  dust." 

"  Come  off,"  said  Alice,  smiling.  "  You  don't  get 
at  me  that  way.    What  do  you  mean'?  " 

"You  wouldn't  think  I  was  a  Terror,  would 
you*?  "  said  Violet,  still  in  the  softest  tone.  "  But 
then  I  so  seldom  say  all  I  think.  I  am  naturally  con- 
ceited and  imperious  and  impertinent,  with  a  rather 
vicious  temper " 

"Come  off,"  Alice  murmured  again,  her  smile 
fading. 


178  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

"  A  rather  vicious  temper  well  under  control.  No 
one  ever  saw  me  out  of  temper,  I  may  tell  you  in 
confidence " 

"  So  I  should  suppose,"  said  Alice. 

"  So  I  shall  spare  you  the  exhibition  for  the 
present.  But  if  you  ever  suggest  again  that  Miss 
Lennox,  or  the  Gibbses,  or  anyone  but  myself  have 
any  right  to  choose  the  friends  I  make,  I  shall  prob- 
ably surprise  you.  You  know  what  independence  is, 
Miss  Eccles,  naturally.  But  you  don't  know  what 
newly-acquired  independence  is,  and  the  tremendous 
advantage  it  gives  you,  owing  to  suppressed  excite- 
ment, all  the  time.  Have  I  looked  excited,  this  last 
week^  " 

"  As  prim  as  a  pussy-cat,"  said  Miss  Eccles. 

"  No  harm  inme^  " 

"Not  an  ounce.  Fine-missyish  a  trifle,  looking 
down  on  the  rest  of  us." 

Miss  Ashwin  smiled  at  Alice.  "  I  ^/«  a  little  dis- 
contented," she  said  in  confidence.  "That's  the 
truth.    I  am  afraid  I  am  ambitious,  Miss  Eccles." 

"  What?  "  Alice's  look  of  amusement  vanished 
completely.  "Not  for  the  business,  you  don't 
mean*? " 

"For  the  business,  yes.  It  has  the  elements  of 
prosperity,  hasn't  it'?  But  I  have  an  uncomfortable 
feeling, —  I  may  be  wrong, —  of  advantages  being 
frittered  away." 


LENNOXES  i8i 

"  Twittered,"  Alice  improved  it.  "  Look  here, — 
are  you  in  earnest?  " 

Miss  Eccles'  appearance  had  completely  changed 
from  her  former  easy  humour.  She  was  another 
person,  cautiously  measuring  the  girl  who  faced  her. 

"I  am  a  perfect  idiot  at  figures,"  said  Violet 
plaintively,  resting  her  head  on  her  hand,  "  with  a 
thoroughly  untidy  mind.  I  have  no  natural  capacity 
for  business  at  all;  but  to  judge  by  Father's  marked 
success  in  acquiring  one,  at  a  comparatively 
advanced  age,  I  do  not  despair  of  myself.  At  least, 
I  am  observant;  and  living  all  day  in  that  place,  one 
can't  help  noticing  things."  A  pause.  "  Why,  for 
instance,  have  we  only  the  one  room"?  —  Mother's 
dressmaker,  not  a  rich  woman,  and  close-fisted  like 
the  French,  has  all  the  floor.  And  rents  are  higher 
at  Knightsbridge,  probably." 

"  I  should  think  so,"  Alice  jerked. 

"  Miss  Lennox,"  proceeded  Violet,  "  to  my  real 
surprise,  has  quite  as  large  a  clientele " 

"  Don't  use  foreign  words,"  said  Alice,  primming 
her  lips,  "  it  reminds  me  of  the  deficiencies  of  my 
education." 

"  It  is  a  silly  habit,"  said  Violet  bitterly,  "  when 
our  language  is  one  of  the  richest  in  the  world.  Miss 
Lennox  has  quite  as  many  regular  customers,  is  what 
I  mean." 

"  I  knew  you  did,  dear,"  said  Alice.    "  Go  on." 


178  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

"  The  room  opposite  ours,  with  a  nice  paper,  and 
some  illustrated  fashion-sheets  about  —  not  to  men- 
tion original  designs  in  pencil  with  a  personal  note  — 
would  improve  our  position  at  once.  People  do  so 
like  a  quiet  corner  to  discuss  their  ideas  with  some- 
body, don't  they^  " 

"  So  they  do,"  said  Alice.  "  The  drawback  is, 
somebody  —  if  it's  Loyce  —  always  wants,  sooner 
or  later,  to  refer  to  me." 

"  Naturally,"  said  Violet.  "  But  need  it  be  the 
drawback^  I  don't  believe  poor  Miss  Lennox  enjoys 
it  really.  Think  of  her  agitation  this  morning,  for 
instance, —  when  you  attracted  my  attention.  It 
was  pitiful."  She  drooped  a  moment,  holding  the 
edge  of  the  lunch-table  with  her  slight,  clever  hands. 
Miss  Eccles  was  considering  too. 

"  I  never  tried  to  cross  her  about  that,"  she  said, 
"because  rights  are  rights,  according  to  me:  and 
those  that  hold  the  capital  keep  the  direction.  See'? 
Not  to  mention  she  doesn't  really  trust  my  manners, 
with  the  silly  ones.  She  thinks  I  should  bully  and 
offend  them,  and  she's  right.  Indeed,  I  have  offended 
one  or  two." 

"  I  know,"  said  Violet.  "  You  can't  suffer  fools 
gladly,  and  no  more,  really,  can  I.  But  I  can  act, 
and  pretend  to,  at  need.  And  anyhow,  it's  an  ex- 
cellent thing  to  practice  patience." 

"  I  shall  believe  your  father  is  a  preacher  soon," 
said  Alice. 


LENNOXES  181 

"  Oh,  excuse  me, —  I  am  talking  at  myself.  I  was 
thinking  of  myself  entirely.  You  see,  in  Mother's 
society,  you  meet  quantities  of  silly  women,  and  learn 
how  to  dodge  them  in  conversation,  and  how  to 
manage  them  too.  And  as  to  trusting  me.  Miss 
Eccles,  I  may  mention  without  boasting  that  Miss 
Lennox  has  been  growing  fonder  of  me  all  this  week. 
She  very  nearly  loves  me  now." 

Alice  paused,  staring  at  Violet.    She  took  her  time. 

"  Well,"  she  said  presently,  "  you  are  a  nice  little 
cat,  and  no  mistake.  That's  what  you're  after,  isn't 
if?  You  want  to  capture  the  interviews,  as  you 
call  them  —  get  them  out  of  her  hands.  . 
Not  but  what  she'd  be  thankful.  But  perhaps  I  had 
better  mention, —  /  am  called  the  forewoman.  Miss 
Ashwin." 

"  Oh  dear,"  said  Violet,  pained.  "  And  what  does 
that  mean  exactly, —  I  never  know." 

"  I  suppose  it  means, —  being  English, —  that  I'm 
to  the  fore.  Which  means,  in  front  of  you.  .  .  . 
Don't  imagine  I'm  objecting,"  she  proceeded  at 
leisure,  as  Violet  seemed  utterly  prostrated.  "  I've 
no  natural  turn  for  palavering,  I'm  quicker  at  seeing 
and  handling  things.  I  know  my  own  points,  thank 
you,  without  your  telling  me.  And  I've  a  notion  we 
could  work  together,  come  to  that;  because  I  like 
your  style,  generally  speaking.  I  mean,  of  course,  if 
you'll  avoid  being  too  cattishly  clever,  which  puts 
me  out." 


i82  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

"  I  simply  can't  help  it,"  said  Violet,  looking 
desperate.  "  You  must  put  up  with  me.  Miss  Eccles, 
as  I  am.  I  mean,  if  we  are  to  keep  together  at  all. 
I  can  only  hope  I've  shown  you  the  worst  of  me  in 
this  interview.    I  have  tried  —  but  I  hardly  know." 

"The  worst  of  you?"  said  Alice,  with  a  laugh. 
"  Oh  well,  that's  all  right,  then, —  we  shall  get  along. 
Don't  look  like  crying,  for  mercy's  sake,  or  Casselses 
will  be  on  us,  asking  what's  up,  and  reporting  me  to 
Lennoxes  for  maltreating  the  apprentices.  Blest  if 
I'm  not  adopting  your  style  in  talk.  Miss  Ashwin. 
I'm  sure  I  hope  you'll  excuse  me,"  added  Alice,  with 
propriety,  glancing  round  her. 

"  I'm  so  worried  about  Miss  Lennox,  to  tell  the 
truth,"  said  Violet,  lowering  her  tone,  for  Mrs. 
Cassilis,  the  proprietress,  was  passing.  "  She  looks 
so  tired." 

"  She's  never  got  over  Miss  Moffat's  behaviour  in 
the  spring.  Talk  of  terrors,  she  was  one.  Good 
gracious  I  " 

"  We  will  not  go  into  that,"  said  Violet,  lifting  a 
hand.  "  Miss  Lennox  has  told  me  all  about  it, — 
and  more  than  she  thinks.  If  there's  one  phenomenon 
in  the  world  that  outrages  me,  Miss  Eccles,  it  is  a 
good,  kind  woman  taking  up  with  a  mean,  merciless 
Trampler,  and  giving  her  the  name  of  friend." 

"  You  do  palaver  well,"  admitted  Alice.  "  I'll  say 
that  for  you.    That's  Miss  Moffat  to  the  life." 


LENNOXES  183 

"  I  am  serious,"  said  Violet.  "  I  do  wish  dear 
Miss  Lennox  would  go  right  away, —  don't  you*? 
For  a  time,  I  mean,  of  course:  to  the  sea  or  some- 
v/here.  I  think  I  shall  talk  a  little  to  Mrs.  Cassilis 
about  that.  She  has  an  influence  with  Miss  Lennox, 
—  hasn't  she*?" 

"  Anyone  has  an  influence  with  Loyce,"  said  Alice. 
She  bit  her  lip;  then  she  lifted  her  eyes  to  the 
clock.  "Miss  Ashwin,"  she  said,  "look  here:  you 
have  got  all  sorts  of  scheming  notions  in  your  little 
noddle,  and  I've  simply  not  time  to  worry  them  out. 
They  may  be  worth  worrying,  or  they  may  not. 
But  I'll  tell  you  one  thing,  straight.  I  shall  leave 
this  place  in  two  minutes,  with  your  company  or 
without." 

"  Is  it  really  time?  "  cried  Violet,  swerving  to  the 
clock.     "  It  does  seem  so  short." 

"  It's  my  time,"  said  Alice.  "  You  and  Miss 
Lennox,  when  you  go  out  together,  take  longer." 

"  Oh,"  the  girl  cried,  "  it's  not  true !  " 

"True'?  Do  you  think  Sally  and  I  don't  time 
you?  But  I  tell  her,  she  needn't  be  surprised. 
You're  not  brought  up  to  regular  habits  like  her 
and  me." 

"  I  am  annihilated,"  said  Violet.  "  Ironed  out. 
And  talking  of  natural  cunning,  Miss  Eccles,  I'm  very 
much  afraid  you've  been  saving  that  up." 

Alice  admitted  the  charge  with  a  cheerful  smile. 


i84  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

It  was  not  till  the  pair  were  in  the  street  that  she 
said  brusquely  —  "  The  park  is  just  down  that  way. 
You  go  down  there  for  half  an  hour  and  see  the 
flowers.  I'll  explain  to  Loyce  so  she  won't  bother 
about  you." 

Miss  Ashwin  crossed  the  street,  in  two  sections, 
at  her  side  before  she  answered.  "  Are  you  speaking 
as  forewoman,"  she  then  enquired,  "  or  as  friend?  " 

"  Whichever  you  like.  I  don't  mind  ordering  you, 
if  you  prefer  it." 

"  Then  I  am  not  offended,"  said  Violet,  "  but  I 
shan't  obey.    When  shall  I  next  talk  to  you"?  " 

"  Goodness  knows.  Loyce  will  never  repep.t  this 
process,"  said  Alice  sagely. 

"  Mayn't  I  drive  you  part  of  the  way  this  evening*? 
It's  the  small  car,  but  Joliffe's  bringing  it,  and  he's 
discreet." 

"  No,  you  don't,"  said  Alice.  "  Likely  I'd  be  seen 
with  you,  isn't?  " 

"  You  do  need  talking  to."  Violet  turned  to  gaze 
at  her,  large-eyed.  "  Do  you  never  accept  lifts  in 
life  from  anybody?  Or  is  it  that  your  people  would 
think  us  fast?  " 

"  I  shall  slap  you  in  a  minute,"  said  Alice. 
"  Don't  provoke  me,  I  advise  you." 

"  I  am  thinking,"  said  Violet  desperately.  "  May 
I  come  and  see  you  some  time  at  Brixton,  or  is  that 
equally  out  of  the  question?  " 


LENNOXES  185 

"  All  right,"  said  Alice  after  consideration.  "  If 
you  come  without  the  car." 

"  Is  it  Joliffe  you're  afraid  of  ^  "  asked  Violet. 
"  He's  a  married  man,  with  a  baby.  Perhaps  that 
makes  no  difference.  Oh  dear,  what  nice  teeth  you 
have  when  you  smile.  By  the  way,  here's  the  chemist 
close  at  hand,  we're  passing  him.  .  .  .  Would 
Sunday  week  do,  I  wonder?  This  one  we're  on  the 
river,  with  the  Marquis." 

"  The  what?  "  Alice  cried. 

"  A  friend  of  Mother's, —  French.  I  think  there's 
nothing  the  Sunday  after.  I  hope  not.  If  there  is, 
I'll  let  you  know." 

"  Let  me  know  in  any  case,"  said  Miss  Eccles 
briefly.  "  I'd  sooner  know  for  certain  if  you're  com- 
ing, and  when." 

"  Of  course,"  said  Miss  Ashwin  hastily.  "  Yes, 
I'll  telegraph." 

"  Better  send  a  halfpenny  card,"  said  Alice. 
"  Telegrams  frighten  Mother." 

Violet  submitted  again.  As  they  turned  into  the 
entrance  of  Lennoxes'  building,  she  was  asking  her- 
self if  she  would  ever  get  used  to  snubs.  She  was 
not  used  to  them,  and  they  caused  a  disproportion- 
ately painful  shock  to  her  system.  Miss  Eccles 
seemed  to  cast  these  shattering  missiles  round  her 
so  lightly,  too.  Violet  hardly  wondered  poor  Miss 
Lennox  shrank  at  times. 


A    DISCOVERY 

*'  I  KNOW  all  about  Miss  Eccles  now,"  wrote  Violet 
some  weeks  later  to  Margery  Gibbs,  "  and  she's 
Thrilling.  I  dare  tell  you  no  more  than  that,  since 
I  hear  Charles  reads  these  letters,  lest  he  fall  in 
love  with  her  simply  on  description.  I  have  to  go 
carefully,  of  course;  but  I  think  some  time  she  is 
going  to  let  me  know  her  quite  well.  She  is  a  per- 
fectly wonderful  girl, —  she  even  impresses  Mother. 
"  On  Sunday  last  she  brought  my  coat  back, —  the 
one  made  of  Italian  military  cloth  Father  broke  the 
law  for  in  Italy.  I  was  delighted  to  see  it  again, 
especially  as  I  wanted  it  for  the  river,  and  Father 
was  fussing  about  shawls.  Don't  you  loathe  shawls, 
Margery  darling?  M.  de  Fervolles  recognised  the 
cloth  at  once,  would  you  believe  it,  and  said  the  idea 
of  making  war  under  other  colours  was  charming,  and 
wouldn't  I  try  the  French  uniform  instead?  Dear 
man,  it  was  almost  the  only  time  he  noticed  me, 
but  his  little  scenes  of  suppressed  emotion  with 
Mother  were  wonderful  to  watch,  and  his  asides 
with  Father  almost  too  complicated  for  common  use. 


LENNOXES  187 

Mother  did  not  trouble  about  them ;  but  I  had  simply 
to  rack  my  brains  to  follow  the  sous-entendu  of  their 
conversations,  and  longed  to  ask  for  Notes.  What 
with  that,  and  the  sun  dazzling  us  all  day,  I  have 
seldom  returned  from  a  river-party  so  exhausted.  I 
prefer  Charles'  sort,  tell  him,  a  Thousand  times." 

After  this  short  summary  of  the  expedition,  which 
rang  faintly  with  Violet's  accustomed  desolation  to 
the  sympathetic  ear,  she  returned  with  evident  de- 
light to  Miss  Eccles,  her  own  discovery  and  intro- 
duction. There  was  something  healthy,  girlish  and 
eager  in  her  manner  of  dealing  with  this  new  friend, 
that  Charles  found,  for  once,  a  trifle  commonplace; 
and  he  skipped  the  interview  of  Alice  and  Mrs. 
Ashwin,  which  had  evidently  amused  Violet. 
Charles  did  not  care  for  comedy,  lacking  the  tragic 
touch.  The  wit  of  the  grave-diggers  appealed  to 
him,  nothing  Pickwickian  or  burlesque.  His  step- 
father, however,  was  different.  Mr.  Gibbs  never 
forgot  one  lamb  of  his  scattered  flock,  and  he  was 
evidently  struck  by  this  unexpected  light  on  Alice. 
This,  together  with  his  ever-fresh  relish  for  the  fair 
Eveleen's  proceedings,  lent  interest  for  him  to  the 
portion  Charles  avoided. 

"  You  see,"  explained  Violet.  "  Mother  is  living 
without  her  maid,  and  words  cannot  say  what  that 
means  to  the  rest  of  us.  I  had  personally  never  any 
idea  what  Leontine  is  to  us  all,  or  the  formidable 


i88  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

gap  that  pleurisy  in  such  a  person  would  leave  in  a 
household.  It  is  evident  Mother  misses  her  more 
than  she  could,  in  any  circumstances,  miss  me; 
though  I  do  my  best  in  little  things,  such  as  Button- 
ing, to  replace  her.  If  All  is  Lost,  darling,  I  can  still 
take  a  post  as  ladies'  maid;  but  of  course  I  am 
nothing,  in  natural  Power,  compared  with  Miss 
Eccles. 

"  The  day  she  arrived  with  my  coat  in  the  nick  of 
time.  Mother  was  preparing  to  be  several  minutes 
too  late  for  the  train  we  had  promised  at  Padding- 
ton,  and  was  simply  splendidly  furious  with  every- 
body,—  the  kind  of  White  anger  I  adore.  Father 
and  I  were  ready  hours  before,  of  course,  and  consol- 
ing one  another  in  the  hall.  Father  was  just  ob- 
serving that  at  the  worst  he  could  make  some  ex- 
traordinary combination  or  other  with  the  car,  when 
Miss  Eccles  walked  into  the  hall  from  the  servant's 
corridor,  and  laid  my  coat  down  on  a  chair.  Father, 
quite  overcome  by  the  splendid  apparition,  stopped 
his  combining  manoeuvres  and  got  up.  So  I  intro- 
duced them,  and  apologised  for  Mother,  explaining 
our  desperate  plight. 

"  '  Could  I  be  of  any  assistance.  Miss  Ahswin,  I 
wonder^ '  says  Alice,  in  what  I  call  her  customer-y 
manner, —  unequalled  on  any  Stage.  Father  said  she 
was  too  obliging,  but  he  feared  only  Heaven  or  a 
change  of  time-table  could  help  us  now.    Miss  Eccles 


LENNOXES  189 

did  not  sniff  precisely,  but  she  put  him  in  his  place; 
and  in  two  minutes,  following  orders  as  usual,  I  was 
showing  her  to  Mother's  room. 

"  I  wish  I  knew,  dear  Margery,  in  what  the  quality 
of  Greatness  consists.  Personally,  I  can  only  recog- 
nise and  bow  to  it.  Mother  has  moments  of  it  cer- 
tainly,—  her  state  that  morning  was  of  spurning 
earthly  things.  Everybody  had  done  their  best  to 
please  her,  and  everybody  had  failed.  The  extra 
girl,  reduced  to  remnants,  was  crying.  Mother  and 
Miss  Eccles  took  one  another's  measure  on  sight  — 
it  was  a  sort  of  Field  of  the  Cloth  of  Gold.  I  was 
quite  too  dazed  to  see  how  Miss  Eccles  did  it, —  all 
I  know  is.  Mother  was  finished  in  time,  and,  owing 
to  Father's  usual  luck  in  killing  nobody  in  the 
Marylebone  Road,  we  caught  the  train  for  Goring 
we  had  promised. 

"  I  have  not  ventured  yet  to  get  Mother's  opinion 
of  Miss  Eccles, —  she  may  be  raging  under  unaccus- 
tomed snubs  for  all  I  know;  but  Miss  Eccles  evi- 
dently thinks  the  better  of  me  for  being  so  closely 
related  to  Mother.  I  had  to  tell  her  every  detail 
about  the  picnic  party, —  she  says  she  knows  Goring 
well.  It  is  a  relief  to  me  when  she  deigns  to  meet 
me  on  any  common  ground  —  or  water.  Generally 
she  despises  our  doings  utterly,  and  seems  to  be 
marvelling  silently  that  we  don't  know  better  how 
to  amuse  ourselves.     Yet  her  ideas  must  be  largely 


190  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

visionary,  for  beautiful  as  she  is,  she  has  never  had 
a  chance  of  fun.  I  do  so  long  to  bring  her  down 
to  Glasswell  for  a  nice  long  day;  she  has  a  passion 
that  is  pathetic  for  country  things,  and  a  real  respect 
for  flowers  that  would  be  a  bond  with  your  Father, 
I  am  sure.  Yet  at  present  I  simply  dare  not  pro- 
pose it,  though  I  hope  to  be  on  terms  to  attempt  it 
in  time." 

*'  Ex-traordinary,"  was  Mr.  Gibbs'  comment, 
"  but  I  might  have  known." 

"  I  suppose  it's  the  attraction  of  opposites,"  said 
Margery  dubiously.  "  I  can't  say  I  quite  like  it, 
Papa." 

"  I  can't  bear  it,"  said  Charles,  with  manly  dignity. 

"  Girls  at  school,"  said  Mrs.  Gibbs,  "  get  enthu- 
siasms for  one  another.  I  have  known  several  who 
carried  it  too  far.  Violet  never  was  at  school,  so  I 
suppose  she  never  worked  off  that  phase,  and  is  going 
through  it  now." 

"  That  is  tenable,"  said  the  Rector.  "  But  why 
not  a  real  friendship, —  a  staying  thing?  That 
would  be  a  godsend  to  the  girl."  He  looked  from 
face  to  face  of  the  table  at  which  he  sat. 

"  Because  it  is  impossible,"  said  Charles. 

Mr.  Gibbs'  eyes  rested  on  him,  and  he  asked, 
"Are  you  jealous,  Charles'?" 

"  No,  governor,"  said  Charles.  "  But  I  have  what 
Mark  Twain  calls  an  invincible  antipathy  to  the 


LENNOXES  191 

name.  Eccles  I  Speckles, —  freckles, —  I  ask  you, 
children  I  " 

His  stepfather  laughed.  "  There's  a  lack  of 
nobility  about  it  possibly,"  he  admitted. 

"  It  can't,"  argued  Charles,  "  be  written  anywhere 
near  to  Ashwin  in  the  stars.     If  they  have  come 

across  one  another,  it  can  only  be  a  chance  con 

Margery,  what's  the  word  I  want^  " 

"  Conjunction,"  said  Margery. 

"  I  thank  you,"  said  Charles.  "  Conjugation  came 
more  naturally  to  my  mind.  I  have  rather  forgotten 
my  astrology, —  a  pity  to  let  one's  early  studies  slide. 
Give  me  the  sugar,  Maud,  and  change  the  subject." 

Charles  was  jealous,  nevertheless:  and  the  arrival 
of  Violet's  next  letter  did  not  improve  matters  in 
any  degree.  It  was  directed  to  him,  and  marked 
"  private  "  with  three  dashes  conspicuously,  which 
would  at  ordinary  times  have  consoled  him  for  much 
that  it  contained;  but  having  read  it  to  its  last 
corner,  seeking  for  any  phrase  that  was  personally 
flattering  to  him,  he  felt  more  injured  than  ever. 
What  on  earth  were  these  girls  for,  if  not  to  encour- 
age him?  He  was  working  very  hard,  entirely  be- 
cause Violet  had  suggested  it.  The  result  was,  he 
was  loathing  the  prospect  of  German  tutorships  more 
every  day,  and  being  more  definitely  attracted  to 
gardening,  which  was  his  own  original  idea.     He 


192  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

foresaw  a  striking  moment  in  the  near  future  when 
he  would  toss  the  book  aside,  and  say  amid  the 
assembled  family,  "  Mother,  I  have  decided  to  be  a 
gardener."  It  would  have  a  great  effect,  and  beat 
Violet's  weaker  feminine  efforts  on  the  same  lines 
hollow. 

He  was  running  through  details  of  this  scene  in 
the  early  life  of  Charles  Shovell,  when  Violet's  letter 
arrived.  It  began  by  announcing  great  news,  and 
Charles  was  led  on  to  expect  dramatic  confidences 
about  Violet's  self,  and  a  difficulty  in  which  his 
advice  should  be  demanded ;  and  then  had  the  shock 
of  discovering  that  the  "  great  news "  concerned 
another  pair  of  people  altogether. 

It  was,  however,  charmingly  written,  as  were  all 
the  documents  he  received  from  her  hands;  and 
though  she  dealt  with  unsuitable  and  even  unsavoury 
things,  the  story  was  treated  in  a  manner  he  could  not 
but  admire. 

The  bald  facts  seemed  to  be,  first,  that  Violet  had 
made  the  acquaintance  of  the  Eccles  mother,  and  was 
shocked  and  horrified  at  the  family's  destitution ;  and 
secondly,  that  she  was  more  than  a  little  shocked 
and  horrified  with  Alice,  for  painting  an  interest- 
ing and  pathetic  mother  much  blacker  than  she  need. 

"  I  am  afraid  Alice  was  a  little  angry  with  me," 
said  Violet  innocently,  "  for  calling  about  an  hour 
sooner  than  I  said.    But  it  gave  me  the  chance  of  a 


LENNOXES  193 

quiet  talk  with  poor  Mrs.  Eccles,  who  seems  a 
terrible  invalid,  before  Alice  came  in  from  her  walk. 
She  seemed  in  great  awe  of  her  daughter,  poor 
woman ;  but  she  was  evidently  so  longing  for  her  tea, 
that  I  assured  her  visitors  were  always  an  Excuse. 
Then,  when  Alice  appeared,  I  found  that  had  been 
the  wrong  thing  too.  She  and  her  mother  were 
clearly  cross  with  one  another  about  something,  so 
I  did  not  stay  long.  Alice  took  me  a  walk  instead 
on  Clapham  Common,  which  is  entirely  new  to  me. 
She  saw  me  to  a  tram,  and  forgave  me  a  little  before 
we  parted.  But  the  remarkable  coincidence  occurred 
before  that,  in  one  part  of  the  long  history  her  mother 
told  me. 

"  She  (Mrs.  Eccles)  is  a  woman  of  the  lachrymose 
order,  constantly  mourning  the  inevitable, —  slightly 
resembling  the  Mock  Turtle  in  conversation.  I 
think,  though  friendly,  she  can  never  have  been 
more  than  milk-and-waterish,  and  the  Eccleses,  as 
I  know  to  my  cost,  are  peppery.  Alice  corrected  a 
few  of  her  mother's  details  later,  but  most  of  it  she 
finally  admitted  was  quite  true. 

"  Mrs.  Eccles  had  tried,  it  appeared,  during  the 
first  months  of  her  widowhood,  never  to  let  her 
daughter  see  a  man,  lest  the  wrong  sort  should  pounce 
on  her.  That  is  the  way,  owing  to  her  bringing 
up,  the  poor  woman  looks  on  life.  She  was  terribly 
severe  for  a  period, —  a  kind  of  Maria-Theresa  and 


194  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

Catherine  of  Russia  combined:  and  then  gave  way 
suddenly.  It  seemed  to  me  characteristic  of  Mrs. 
Eccles  that  in  the  April  after  her  husband's  death 
she  boxed  Alice's  ears  for  accepting  an  apple  from 
a  grocer's  man  who  called  her  a  nice  little  bit  of 
colour, —  and  that  in  August  of  the  same  year  she 
let  her  go  to  stay  on  a  Farm  in  Devonshire,  with  a 
cousin  of  her  husband's,  who  had  nine  extremely 
handsome  children,  four  of  whom  were  sons.  It 
seemed  to  surprise  Mrs.  Eccles  immensely  that  two 
of  the  said  sons  instantly  fell  in  love  with  Alice; 
because  she  is  a  person  whom  anything  natural  and 
inevitable  would  surprise:  whereas  outrageous  com- 
binations such  as  Alice  and  Miss  Lennox  she  takes 
as  a  matter  of  course.  She  is  not  what  I  may  call 
sensitive  to  personality, —  but  you  at  least  know 
what  I  mean." 

This  was  an  instance  of  the  kind  of  crumb  Violet 
cast  to  the  patient  Charles  at  intervals,  and  which 
helped  him  through  the  impersonal  mazes  of  her 
description.  The  next  paragraph,  however,  did 
startle  him  a  good  deal. 

"  Now  I  come  to  the  part  where  you  can  help  me, 
Charles.  I  will  shorten  the  surprising  history  as 
much  as  I  can,  for  I  know  you  are  too  busy  to  be 
bothered.  The  farmer  Mr.  Eccles'  cousin  married 
was  called  Peacock,  and  the  rivals  for  Alice's 
favour  were  called  respectively  Abel  and  Kit.     [Not 


LENNOXES  195 

Cain,  I  was  glad  to  be  reassured.]  Kit  was  Alice's 
favourite,  and  Abel,  as  usual,  cared  most  for  her. 
Alice  had  evidently  represented  Kit  to  her  mother 
as  a  dangerous  person,  and  gone  about  with  an 
elaborately  broken  heart.  After  I  had  talked  to  her 
for  quite  a  long  time  about  the  Peacock  family  on 
Clapham  Common,  I  discovered  that  the  said  Kit 
was  ten  years  old. 

"  I  will  not  enlarge  on  the  Kit  part  of  the  story, 
which  merely  illustrates  one  of  Alice's  peculiarities. 
Because  you  and  dear  Margery  and  the  others  are 
bound  to  be  more  excited  about  Abel.  It  could  be 
no  Abel  but  yours,  I  was  convinced,  having  seen  his 
features  once  with  my  own  eyes ;  but  with  a  mighty 
effort  I  said  nothing  whatever  to  hint  at  a  suspicion, 
either  to  Mrs.  Eccles,  or  to  Alice.  I  thought  it  better 
not,  for  reasons.  ...  I  may  add  that  I  am 
afraid  Father  is  right  about  the  Vane  being  no  part 
of  the  name  originally,  so  for  the  good  of  his  Soul  I 
shall  tell  him  nothing  of  it  either.  .  .  .  But  I 
am  safe  with  you." 

Charles  swallowed  the  second  crumb;  and  his  in- 
terest being  now  really  engaged,  proceeded  eagerly. 

"  I  warn  you  I  have  now  told  you  practically  all  I 
know,  and  what  is  left  is  largely  feminine  surmise. 
I  think  there  is  a  strong  probability,  having  definitely 
ruled  out  Kit,  that  Alice  cared  for  Abel  more 
than  she  will  confess.     Her  peculiarity,  to  which  I 


196  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

alluded,  is  always  to  make  herself  out  more  flatly 
insensible  and  less  finely  delicate  by  nature  than  she 
is.  Perhaps  her  mother  being  so  finicking  about 
things  has  pushed  her  into  Caricature.  At  least,  I 
observe  that  any  hint  of  exaggerated  refinement, 
even  dropped  by  inadvertence,  sends  her  flying  in- 
stantly to  grotesque  extremes.  I  shall  inform  her 
this  is  a  weakness,  when  I  dare.  .  .  .  Examples 
of  the  above :  she  says  her  mother  drinks,  which  I  am 
unable  to  believe,  having  seen  the  woman,  even  with 
the  coincidence  of  a  rather  red  nose:  and  she  said 
she  was  gone  on  Kit  Peacock,  and  even  more  com- 
promising expressions,  when  he  eventually  turned 
out  to  be  ten  years  old.  So  I  ask  you,  how  is  one  to 
believe  without  reserve  her  statements  about  Abel"? 

"  I  allowed  for  a  little  pique  when  Alice  said  Abel 
aped  his  betters,  because  it  is  exactly  the  last  thing 
in  the  world  she  would  do  herself.  In  fact  she  does 
the  contrary.  Then  she  said  he  was  a  dunderheaded 
Turnip,  which  seemed  to  refer  partly  to  his  pro- 
vincial origin,  and  partly  to  imply  he  had  not  gone 
about  his  wooing  in  the  manner  she  approved.  But 
I  see  it  would  be  so  easy  to  run  upon  the  Rocks  in 
proposing  to  Alice,  that  I  feel  for  poor  dear  Peacock 
more  than  ever. 

"  He  was  most  persistent  in  his  suit,  making  him- 
self the  laughing-stock  of  the  district,  according  to 
Alice,  as  long  as  she  stayed  down  there.     He  left 


LENNOXES  197 

home  soon  after  she  did,  and  took  work  near  London, 
doing,  as  even  Alice  admitted,  extremely  well.  He 
is  the  eldest  of  the  Peacocks,  and  by  no  means  to  be 
despised,  really,  though  Alice  despises  him.  He 
came  to  call  in  Brixton  every  single  Sunday,  making 
himself  most  acceptable  to  Mother,  as  Alice  sarcas- 
tically said,  and  bringing  her  presents  of  green  tea. 
And  the  more  Airs.  Eccles  was  taken  by  his  appear- 
ance and  manners,  the  more  unmercifully  Alice  dealt 
with  him.  Having  seen  Alice  and  her  mother,  you 
can  imagine  the  kind  of  way  it  came  about.  Alice, 
you  can  tell  on  sight,  demands  spirit  in  a  man  before 
all.  Poor  Abel  naturally  found  it  hard  to  speak  of 
what  lay  on  his  heart,  and,  though  they  met  so  often, 
never  got  any  nearer  to  it.  Alice  said  she  could  not 
stand  his  stuttering  at  last,  and  performed  the  pro- 
posal for  him.  And  then  the  horrid  girl  had  the 
cruelty  to  tell  him  she  had  accepted  one  of  his 
brothers  the  year  before,  leaving  him  to  wonder 
which  I  (It  appears  Kit  actually  had  asked  her  to 
marry  him,  on  a  gate.) 

"  What  happened  after  this,  I  cannot  say.  Alice 
only  told  me  he  went  off  his  head,  what  was  left  of  it, 
and  shut  her  mouth.  The  whole  thing  occurred  three 
years  ago,  when  she  was  seventeen.  Of  course,  I 
understand  her  attitude  to  men  much  better  now,  for 
the  Peacock  affair  exasperated  her,  for  some  reason, 
almost  past  bearing.    I  incline  to  think  it  is  Mothers, 


198  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

Charles,  as  usual;  and  that  in  her  heart  Alice  regrets 
her  own  behaviour,  she  speaks  about  it  in  such  an 
odd,  defiant  way.  These  misunderstandings  between 
excellent  people  are  piteous  things,  I  am  sure  you 
will  agree  with  me.  I  want  to  work  on  Fate  a 
little, —  will  you  not  help  me"?  It  seems  such  an 
opportunity,  you  at  Peacock's  elbow,  and  I  at  hers, 
and  I  hope  not  too  romantic  to  be  feasible.  Will 
you  tell  me  what  you  think,  and  not  be  too  masculine 
and  crushing  about  it'^  I  quite  suspect  you  are  deep 
in  his  confidence  by  now." 

"  You  see,"  Violet  added,  as  an  afterthought,  "  I 
love  Miss  Eccles,  and  am  ready  to  love  Mr.  Peacock, 
very  nearly,  for  loving  her.  She  is  a  Great  Artist, 
and  a  wonderful  girl." 


VI 

CHARLES  RETALIATES 

In  this  manner,  the  train  was  started.  Charles  en- 
joyed conspiracy  of  any  kind,  at  least  as  much  as 
Violet;  and  was  mildly  flattered  at  being  asked  to 
help  her,  even  in  another  man's  affairs.  He  was  not 
of  course  the  least  "  romantic  "  about  Violet's  Miss 
Eccles,  whom  he  had  never  seen.  But  firstly,  it 
was  a  relief  to  his  jealous  soul  to  know  that  this 
grasping  personage  was  interested  in  another  than 
Violet;  secondly,  he  was  by  no  means  above 
curiosity;  and  thirdly,  the  quest  offered  an  occu- 
pation, even  a  kind  of  duty,  which  diverted  him 
from  the  study  of  the  Teutonic  tongue,  and  offered 
also  by  the  way,  an  excellent  opportunity  for  teasing 
Robert  Brading. 

Of  course,  nothing  would  induce  him  to  betray 
Violet's  confidence;  with  all  those  dashes  under  the 
word  "  private  "  on  her  envelope,  that  was  under- 
stood. Still,  the  day  after  the  letter's  arrival, 
since  Brading  happened  to  be  spending  a  night  at 
the  Rectory,  he  could  not  resist  the  temptation  of 


200  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

throwing  a  bomb  among  the  unsuspecting  family 
at  tea-time  by  observing  — 

"  I  have  reason  to  believe,  my  brethren,  that  our 
Vane-Peacock  is  in  love." 

Margery  blushed  instantly  and  deeply,  which  de- 
lighted Charles,  and  deeply  annoyed  Mr.  Brading. 
Charles  had  already  taken  occasion  to  inform  Bob 
that,  since  his  last  visit  to  Glasswell,  Margery  had 
been  painting  Mr.  Peacock,  morning,  noon,  and 
night.  This  could  not,  on  the  face  of  it,  be  taken 
literally;  but  Robert,  owing  partly  to  Margery,  and 
partly  to  home  affairs  to  which  he  never  alluded, 
was  in  a  nervous  and  depressed  condition,  and  such 
information  was  not  likely  to  make  him  any  happier. 
If  he  had  made  the  smallest  appeal  for  sympathy  on 
either  count,  it  need  not  be  said,  Charles  would  not 
have  teased  him,  for  he  was  as  soft-hearted  as  he 
was  light-headed.  But  Bob  was  a  reserved  person, 
and  had  been  growing  more  so  of  late;  though  he 
seemed,  silent  as  he  was,  to  enjoy  the  air  of  Glasswell 
Rectory  more  than  that  of  any  house  in  the  various 
neighbourhoods  he  frequented. 

After  the  customary  request  from  his  mother  not 
to  be  absurd  — 

"  In  love,"  Charles  repeated.  "  Not  necessarily 
with  Margery,  for  all  her  flattering  attentions. 
More  probably  with  some  fair  unknown." 

"And  what  reason  have  you  for  thinking  so?" 


LENNOXES  201 

said  Mrs.  Gibbs  sharply;  for  she  never  knew  if 
Charles  was  serious  or  not. 

"  Well,  he  does  up  some  of  the  governor's  flowers 
every  other  day  to  send  to  her," 

"Charlie I     Really!"     Protesting  cries  arose. 

"  Yes,"  said  Charles,  pleased  by  the  stir  he  had 
produced.  "  He  does  it  openly  too,  which  proves  the 
divine  all-disregarding  passion  is  upon  him.  Cupid 
scoffs  at  the  Commandments, —  except  of  course  the 
one  about  loving  your  neighbour,  which  he  occa- 
sionally approves,  for  want  of  better  opportunity." 

Mrs.  Gibbs  begged  him  not  to  be  so  profane,  and 
Maud  besought  him  to  be  more  accurate.  The 
Rector,  who  had  entered  during  the  last  sentence, 
laughed.  The  gist  of  the  conversation  was  naturally 
repeated  to  him. 

"  I  gave  the  man  leave  to  send  a  few  flowers  to 
his  mother  at  Deptford,"  he  said,  looking  over  all  the 
heads  towards  his  wife.  "  That's  such  a  flowerless 
quarter." 

"  Worse  and  worse,"  said  Charles,  looking  pained. 
"  I  happen  to  know  from  another  authority  that  his 
mother  lives  in  Devonshire,  a  quarter  where  flowers 
abound." 

"What  authority?"  cried  a  chorus;  and  Charles 
woke  to  find,  as  not  infrequently  in  casual  conversa- 
tion, that  his  secret  was  in  imminent  danger  of 
escaping  his  control. 


202  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

"  Of  course,"  he  said,  shifting  the  issue,  "  the  V-P 
regards  the  governor's  roses  as  his  own.  That's  the 
first  rule  in  the  gardening  manual.  Also,  the  gov- 
ernor takes  no  trouble  to  conceal  from  him  that  the 
flowers,  compared  with  certain  other  fruits  of  the 
earth  that  shall  be  nameless,  are  of  no  importance, 
and  Peacock  is  a  very  literal  person.  A  spade  is  a 
spade  to  Peacock, —  a  Shovell  likewise.  "  Having 
thus  obscured  the  issues  to  his  own  satisfaction,  he 
said  impressively, —  "  I  now  leave  the  field  to  Mar- 
gery." 

"  I  have  nothing  to  say,"  she  said,  "  with 
marked  gentleness.  Bob  Brading  was  watching  her 
anxiously. 

"  Haven't  you"? "  said  Charles,  with  reproach. 
"  I  thought  during  your  long  lonely  interviews,  at 
rosy  morn  and  dewy  eve,  he  would  have  told  you 
all  about  it.  You  are  a  woman,  after  all,  which  I 
never  pretended  to  be.  Why,  the  mere  fact  that 
the  fellow  made  no  bones  about  sitting  to  you 
suggests  that  he's  engaged, —  or  at  least  well- 
accustomed  to  feminine  society.  When  I  told  him 
you  would  be  at  college  in  the  autumn,  and  so  out 
of  his  way,  he  said, —  "  Indeed,  sir,"  in  a  manner 
which  implied  j^ou  were  less  than  nothing  to  him: 
and  suggested  simultaneously  that  another  girl  is 
more  than  something, —  which  proves  my  original 
con 


LENNOXES  203 

He  received  at  this  point  a  cushion  in  the  mouth 
from  Mr.  Brading,  who  had  for  some  time  been 
wanting  to  speak. 

"  What  led  you  to  suppose,  Shovell,  that  his 
parents  lived  in  Devonshire^  "  he  demanded  in- 
cisively. 

"  He  seemed  to  think  nothing  of  our  cream,"  said 
Charles,  with  the  most  fluent  promptitude.  But 
Robert  was  not  so  easily  thrown  out. 

"  I  am  going  to  guess,"  he  declared.  "  Was  it  Dr. 
Ashwin*?" 

"  Dr.  Ashwin'?  "  said  Charles,  gaping  ingenuously. 
"Lord  no,  my  dear  fellow,  why  should  it  be'?" 
He  was  relieved  at  the  false  scent,  for  Brading  was 
rather  sharp,  and  he  did  not  care  to  be  driven  into 
flat  mendacity,  even  for  Violet's  sake. 

"'  All  right,"  said  Robert  briefly.  "  I  retire."  He 
glanced  swiftly  at  his  host's  benevolent  face,  on 
which  a  slow,  faintly  puzzled  frown  had  appeared. 
The  Rector  seemed  seeking  some  lost  thread  in  his 
memory. 

Seeing  this  expression,  Robert  was  reminded  that 
he  alone,  of  all  the  party  that  met  that  Sunday  at 
lunch,  had  perceived  the  possible  connection  between 
the  church-going  criminal  in  Dr.  Ashwin's  story, 
and  the  upright  and  impassive  man  who  now 
attended  to  the  Rector's  peas.     Robert  would  have 


204  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

been  a  little  ashamed  of  his  prompt  suspicion,  if  he 
had  not  caught  an  electric  spark  from  Dr.  Ashwin's 
eye  that  betrayed  he  shared  it.  Peacock's  avoidance 
of  the  Ashwin  party  by  the  natural-seeming  ruse  of 
attending  church  had  chanced  to  be  the  very  step 
that  drew  suspicion  upon  him. 

What  Robert  could  not  recollect,  though  he  teased 
his  memory,  was  whether  Peacock  and  the  Ashwin 
party  had  ever  come  face  to  face.  As  soon  as  he 
got  Margery  alone,  he  solved  this  question  easily, — 
they  had.  They  must  have  done  so,  at  the  moment 
when  the  gardener  barely  escaped  the  motor-wheels. 
Robert  left  Margery,  who  seemed  too  willing  to  be 
left,  and  retired,  greatly  vexed  in  his  grave  and 
orderly  mind. 

"  I  wonder  if  I  ought  to  do  anything  about  it^  " 
thought  Robert.  "  The  man  may  be  pilfering  here 
for  all  I  know.  That  story  about  his  taking  flowers 
—  Shovell  was  fooling  probably,  but  I  don't  quite 
like  it  all  the  same." 

A  thing  he  liked  even  less  he  would  hardly  admit 
to  himself,  for  it  was  to  his  kind  and  rather  con- 
ventional nature,  an  almost  desecrating  thought.  But 
Margery's  blush  haunted  him,  and  the  reports  of  her 
long  morning  interviews  with  the  straight-featured 
scoundrel  drove  him,  at  intervals,  to  grind  his  teeth. 
He  would  not  confess  his  jealousy  to  himself,  and 
so,  naturally,  suffered  the  more. 


LENNOXES  205 

He  pondered  if  he  would  throw  dignity  to  the 
winds,  and  speak  to  Charles,  or  go  straight  to  the 
Rector  at  headquarters.  He  was  sure  of  a  fair 
hearing,  however  absurd  he  seemed  to  himself,  for 
Mr.  Gibbs  was  fond  of  him.  Yet  —  each  course 
seemed  to  have  its  drawbacks,  and  all  courses  to  be 
rather  low.  He  resolved  to  settle  the  one  uncertain 
issue  first,  that  of  the  man's  identity,  and  wrote  a 
note  to  Dr.  Ashwin  consisting  of  a  single  line.  He 
received  by  return  of  post  a  note  consisting  of  a 
single  word, —  "  Yes." 

After  that.  Bob  took  the  situation  to  pieces  anew, 
painfully  and  conscientiously.  Evidently  Dr.  Ash- 
win's  unwritten  opinion  was  that  the  man  should  be 
given  his  chance,  free  from  the  black  mark  tem- 
porary insanity  had  set  against  his  name.  Dr.  Ash- 
win was  his  mother's  old  friend,  and  Robert  respected 
him.  Also,  he  had  implied  clearly  in  the  telling  of 
his  tale,  that  the  insane  fit  was  connected  with  a 
girl, —  and  in  that  matter  Robert  felt  for  Peacock, 
as  man  for  man.  Girls  were  the  very  deuce  when 
they  once  took  thorough  possession  of  the  mind. 
Margery  Gibbs,  this  little  country  clergyman's 
daughter,  was  absolutely  trampling  upon  his  heart. 
He  could  not  keep  away  from  her,  and  kept  coming 
back  and  back,  though  she  had  given  him  no  en- 
couragement whatever,  and  seemed  rather  to  avoid 
him  than  otherwise.    He  had  freed  himself  of  fears 


2o6  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

about  Charles'  intentions  with  regard  to  her  only  to 
be  filled  anew,  against  his  better  judgment,  with  this 
absurd  unfounded  jealousy  of  a  handsome  gardener. 
Margery  was  an  artistic  girl, —  art  is  charming. 
What  on  earth  had  come  to  Robert  that  he  could  not 
let  her  dabble  her  little  water-colour  studies  in  peace'? 

He  courted  his  torment  that  evening  by  asking  to 
see  the  contents  of  Margery's  portfolio.  Complicated 
torture  it  held  for  him  indeed :  Peacock  in  every  atti- 
tude :  head,  body  and  legs  of  Peacock,  distant,  immi- 
nent, side,  front  and  back.  The  intolerable  ass 
seemed  to  be  equally  picturesque  from  either  side, 
and  from  every  point  of  the  compass.  He  seemed 
to  be  a  willing  model :  some  of  the  studies  even  ap- 
peared to  exhibit  a  simper  of  gratification. 
Margery's  little  fingers  trembled  with  pride  and 
shyness  in  showing  Bob  the  sketches.  She  even 
talked  to  him  a  little.  Peacock  was  such  a  good 
sitter  —  statuesque.  She  did  so  hope  Mr.  Brading 
thought  she  was  getting  on.  She  did  so  love  doing 
figures  —  better  than  flowers,  yes. 

And  she  had  never  asked  Robert  to  sit  to  her, — 
ah,  furies  I 

Charles,  having  found  out  little  or  nothing  about 
Peacock's  past  during  several  very  enjoyable  inter- 
views, bristling  with  his  own  ingenuous  hints  and 
surmises,  and  punctuated  by  arid  monosyllables  from 
the  other  party,  felt  he  must  find  something  to  tell 


LENNOXES  207 

Molet,  and  so  informed  her  of  the  Abel-Margery 
complication.  He  thought  it  rather  amusing,  and 
worded  it  with  some  audacity  in  the  style  of  the 
special  number  of  a  Cambridge  University  magazine ; 
and  he  forgot,  as  witty  young  men  will  do,  that 
Molet  loved  Margery,  as  well  as  Alice,  the  other 
girl  indirectly  concerned;  and  that  every  word  he 
wrote  would  stir  her  sensibilities,  and  penetrate 
through  any  armour  to  her  heart. 

"Charles, —  oh,  Charles, —  how  terrible!''  her 
next  letter  to  him  began.  "  Do,  do  reassure  me  that 
it  is  not  as  you  say  I  You  must  be  joking,  aren't 
you  ■?  At  first  I  refused  to  think  it  possible,  and  then 
I  began  just  to  see  how  such  a  thing  could  occur. 
There  is  something  about  strength  and  beauty  un- 
vexed  by  foolish  emotion  and  the  currents  of  modern 
Thought  quite  dreadful  in  its  silent  magnetism.  I 
flashed  by  Peacock,  that  Sunday  in  the  car,  but  I 
felt  even  in  that  second  of  time  the  man's  singular 
fascination.  Isn't  it  natural  for  people  like  us,  who 
are  teased  perpetually  by  our  brains,  to  ask  ourselves 
at  times  —  what  do  brains  matter  after  all?  I  am 
much  afraid  girls  are  like  that  anyhow.  I  am  much 
afraid  Margery  may  be.  I  always  loved  Hermes 
and  Apollo  more,  not  less,  for  their  contented  silly 
faces, —  precisely  as  you  love  the  expression  in  cats 
and  cows.  And  picture  an  Apollo,  for  poor  Margery, 
come  to  life !     I  am  miserable  thinking  of  it.     You 


2o8  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

have  distressed  me  exceedingly.  I  thought  Mr. 
Blading  and  darling  Margery  were  so  safe^  yes,  there 
is  the  truth  I  I  am  Snobbish  on  the  subject,  anything 
you  like.  I  cannot  allow  you  to  treat  the  tragedy 
you  hint  at  lightly.    Tear  this  up." 

Charles  tore  it  unwillingly,  for  he  thought  it  a 
charming  letter,  and  more  like  those  ideal  "  kind  of 
things  girls  wrote  "  than  any  he  had  ever  yet  received 
in  Violet's  hand.  He  was  glad,  too,  she  was  capable 
of  that  pleasant  feminine  weakness  of  being  indiffer- 
ent about  brains  in  man,  so  long  as  man  was  person- 
able, strong  and  socially  presentable.  All  this  was 
just  as  it  should  be;  and  indeed,  he  had  suspected 
it,  for  all  her  evident  wish  to  dazzle  the  world  on 
paper. 

Charles  smiled  and  whistled  a  good  deal  as  he 
walked  about  the  house  and  garden,  on  the  morning 
of  the  arrival  of  that  letter. 


VII 

FRIENDS 

It  is  hard  to  determine  at  what  exact  stage  of  their 
intercourse  Miss  Eccles  discovered  that  Miss  Ashwin 
had  a  "  friend."  In  the  circles  of  the  young  ladies 
from  Brixton  who  travelled  daily  with  Alice  by 
tram  and  poured  into  either  ear  their  triumphs  and 
sorrows  alternately,  to  have  a  "  friend  "  was  correct 
and  natural.  A  friend  (of  the  male  sex  understood) 
was  the  consequent  adjunct  of  maturity.  The  young 
ladies  walked  with  theirs,  on  affable  or  stately  terms 
according  to  their  nature,  they  rode  or  rinked  with 
him,  teased  or  tiffed  with  him,  took  him  or  were 
taken  to  theatres  and  picture  palaces.  The  friend 
was  liable  to  change,  naturally:  sometimes  he 
changed  suddenly,  in  "  Sturm  und  Drang,"  some- 
times he  slid  into  another  combination  or  set  piece, 
like  a  kaleidoscope.  More  rarely  he  disappeared  or 
"  behaved  badly,"  and  the  young  lady  wore  the 
willow.  Her  manner  of  doing  this,  whether  silently, 
significantly,  or  showily,  was  the  surest  mark  of  her 
breeding. 

Alice  Eccles,  for  instance,  was  known  to  have  had 
a  friend, —  possibly  several :  but  one  in  especial  to 


210  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

whom  she  "  made  a  point  of  never  alluding,"  even 
under  the  most  lively  provocation.  This  behaviour 
was  perfect,  and  marked  Alice  down  as  the  "  real 
sort,"  a  type  most  of  the  Brixton  young  persons 
would  fain  have  imitated,  but  generally  speaking, 
could  not.  They  could  never  avoid,  when  confidence 
was  pushed  to  extremes,  a  little  abuse  of  the  default- 
ing gentleman,  or  at  least,  some  ornamental  self- 
defence.  Alice,  in  their  society,  never  abused  hers. 
Her  designation  of  him  as  a  "  turnip  "  to  Violet  was 
exceptional.  For  firstly,  on  that  occasion  the  con- 
fidence had  already  been  given  away,  and  Alice's 
remark  a  commentary  and  corrective,  more  or  less 
humorous,  to  her  mother's  story;  and  secondly, 
Alice's  terms  of  acquaintance  with  Violet  were  ad- 
mittedly quite  different  from  those  easy  bonds  that 
connected  her  with  her  travelling  companions. 

How  these  terms  came  about,  neither  girl  quite 
knew.  They  were  not  alike,  save  in  a  certain  un- 
compromising turn,  and  love  of  a  definite  issue, 
whether  in  life  or  talk.  They  shared  a  contempt  for 
dilator}'  or  "  fluffy  "  ways.  Humour  they  shared 
too,  though  of  a  differing  flavour;  and  curiosity. 
The  opportunity  of  looking  into  one  another's  lives 
had  the  charm  of  novelty  half-suspected,  of  partially 
imagined  facts.  Lastly  the  valuable  ingredient  of 
partisanship  united  them,  the  understanding  they 
shared  regarding  the  head  of  the  firm. 


LENNOXES  211 

Violet  had  been  quite  successful  in  her  cunning 
schemes  as  regarded  Miss  Lennox.  With  the 
timely  co-operation  of  Casselses,  that  lady  had  been 
practically  driven  out,  first  to  a  doctor,  and  then 
to  Ramsgate  for  a  month.  Shop,  properly  so  called, 
was  shut  while  she  was  away;  but  she  was  inspired 
by  natural  kindliness  and  careful  prompting  to  leave 
Miss  Eccles  the  key  of  the  studio,  that  she  might 
use  it  for  her  private  work.  This  suited  Alice  pre- 
cisely, for  she  had  small  space  or  leisure  at  home. 
Apart  from  the  business  of  the  firm,  she  accepted, 
on  her  own  account,  trousseau  and  under-linen  orders, 
to  fill  in  Lennoxes'  slack  times ;  for,  though  Alice  took 
a  special  pride  in  those  cutting  and  tailoring  talents 
which  verge  upon  the  man's  department,  and  sniffed 
a  little  at  the  feminine  "  white  work,"  she  really 
enjoyed  it  for  a  change,  especially  when  she  had  a 
companion.  She  was  engaged  now  on  a  large  double 
order  at  short  notice,  and  when  Violet  proffered  her 
services,  Alice  accepted  them  gratefully,  and  without 
scruple ;  for  in  the  purely  feminine  department,  even 
she  admitted  Miss  Ashwin's  "  meticulous  "  fairy  fin- 
gers were  of  value. 

Their  friendship  flourished,  encouraged  by  the 
common  interest.  Two  girls  cannot  sew  together, 
especially  at  the  delicate  wardrobes  destined  for 
birth  and  marriage,  without  a  constant  inspiration 
to  intimate  chatter;  and  Alice  was  soon  telling  Violet 


212  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

things  she  had  never  breathed  to  a  girl  before.  She 
was  aware  she  got  less  confidence  than  she  gave,  not 
by  any  design  on  Violet's  part,  but  because  such 
reticence  belonged  to  her  self-knowledge  and  sus- 
ceptibility. Violet  had  the  fear  of  herself  that  results 
from  habitual,  life-long  introspection;  she  did  not 
easily  betray  the  inner  stores  she  had  counted  so 
often  and  so  carefully.  She  greatly  preferred  to 
listen  to,  and  comment  on  other  histories. 

So  Alice  enlarged  on  the  theme  of  friends, —  mas- 
culine preferred, —  and  tried  with  practised  guile  to 
find  out  more  about  Mr.  Shovell.  The  terms  on 
which  Violet  and  this  gentleman  appeared  to  be 
beat  everything  Alice  had  ever  heard  of,  in  history 
or  fiction.  She  and  Miss  Ashwin,  for  a  long  time, 
seemed  to  be  in  danger  of  an  utter  failure  to  adjust 
their  ideas  on  the  subject,  though  they,  or  rather 
Alice,  hammered  at  it  constantly. 

"  Either  you're  fond  of  him,  or  you're  not,"  said 
Alice.    "  That's  only  sense." 

"Of  course  I'm  fond  of  Charles,"  said  Violet. 
"  He  is  a  quite  delightful  person.  He  is  something 
like  a  nice  baby.  If  you  saw  him  once,  you'd  under- 
stand." 

"How  old  did  you  say  he  was*?"  said  Alice. 
"  Twenty- three*?  Well,  you  know  what  you're  after 
at  twenty- three,  according  to  my  experience." 

"  I  won't  misunderstand  you,"  said  Violet.   "  You 


LENNOXES  213 

mean  he  is  after  me.  But  you  are  mistaken,  Alice. 
Now,  let  me  consider:  I  won't  call  him  friend,  be- 
cause that  seems  to  have  a  quite  untieard-of  significa- 
tion.   Admirer,  I  suppose,  is  worse." 

"  Much  the  same,"  said  Alice,  biting  a  thread. 
"  Admirer  is  down  the  scale  a  bit,  and  follower  is 
lower  still." 

"  Please  don't  tell  Father  I  have  a  follower,"  said 
Violet. 

''Well,"  said  Alice,  "he  followed  you  here. 
Monday  he  called,  and  you  went  down  to  see  him, 
wasn't  it'? " 

"  Yes.    He  brought  me  a  note  from  his  sister." 

"  Oh  yes  I  "  said  Alice. 

"  I  wish,"  said  Violet,  "  I  had  asked  him  up;  but 
he  was  a  little  shy  of  disturbing  us." 

"  He  would  be,"  said  Alice.  Silence  between  the 
pair. 

"  I  am  afraid,  Alice,  you  are  deficient  in  imagina- 
tion," said  Violet.  "  It  would  perhaps  not  be  possible 
to  you  to  have  a  Charles.  Still,  you  had  a  Kit  once, 
I  remember.  Turn  your  mind  upon  Kit,  and  then 
imagine, —  hard." 

"  It's  no  good  imagining  men  are  the  same  at  ten 
and  twenty-three,"  said  Alice,  "  because  they're  not. 
If  anyone's  imagination  is  off  it,  it's  yours,  my  dear." 

"  Was  Kit  clever*?  "  said  Violet  sweetly. 

"  Rather  I  "  said  Alice,  glowing.  "  Sharp  as  they're 


214  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

made.  All  the  Peacocks  were,  but  Abel.  It's  a 
wonder  to  me  Abel  ever  learnt  to  speak.  I  don't  see 
what  this  has  to  do  with  the  subject." 

"  I  am  trying  to  project  my  idea  of  friendship 
upon  your  mind,  that's  all.  Did  other  people  under- 
stand Kit's  nature,  or  only  you"?  " 

"  There  were  nine  people  besides  me,"  said  Alice, 
reflecting  on  the  matter,  "  ten  counting  the  char- 
woman, who  spoilt  him  regularly.  His  mother  was 
silly  about  him,  being  the  last.  I  told  her  he'd  go  to 
the  bad,  if  they  all  went  on  at  the  rate  they  were 
going;  but  I  couldn't  help  kissing  him  when  he  sat 
upon  my  knee." 

Violet  admitted  sadly  that  the  case  was  not  the 
same.  Alice  had  stopped  work,  thinking  of  Christo- 
pher Peacock,  her  early  love.  Her  face,  as  she 
dreamed  on  him,  rocking  in  Miss  Lennox's  chair,  was 
beautiful.  Violet,  having  looked  at  her  for  an 
instant,  hid  her  own  face  in  her  hands. 

"  What's  the  matter,  deary'?  "  said  Alice,  starting 
round. 

"  Oh,"  said  Violet,  "  it's  only  so  wicked  you  should 
be  here,  and  not  in  a  beautiful  farm,  with  children. 
Of  course  that's  where  you  ought  to  be." 

"  Not  other  people's  children,  thank  you,"  said 
Alice. 

"  Not  other  people's,  no  —  your  own.  Alice, 
listen.    I  am  going  to  be  terribly  impertinent.    Could 


LENNOXES  215 

you  not  forgive  Abel,  if  you  found  him  again,  and  he 
still  cared  for  you^  " 

"  Come  to  that,  I  know  he  cares,"  said  Alice. 

"  Do  you*?  "  said  Violet  quickly.    "  How ^  " 

"  See  those  flowers'?  "  Alice  nodded  to  the  bunch 
of  roses  in  Miss  Lennox's  blue  vase.  "  Where  do  you 
suppose  they  come  from  to  me  regularly,  twice  a 
week"?  " 

Miss  Ash  win  looked  blank  a  moment.  Con- 
spirators are  prepared  for  most  things,  but  this 
stroke  was  unexpected.  She  had  innocently  admired 
a  rose  in  the  bunch  that  morning,  because  it  re- 
minded her  of  Uncle  Arthur's  garden  at  Glasswell. 
What  if  the  flowers  really  did  come  thence  *?  What  a 
painful  suspicion  to  drop  on  a  hero  of  romance  I 

"Tell  me  a  little  more,"  she  said  to  Alice  dis- 
creetly. 

"  The  one  thing  Abel  and  me  always  agreed  about, 
was  flowers,"  said  Alice.  "  Down  there  at  the  farm, 
the  way  he  kept  his  mother's  garden  was  a  sight. 
Later  he  had  an  allotment  near  London,  and  sent  to 
me  straight  from  there.  I  suppose,  wherever  he  is, 
he  has  got  one  now." 

"  But  don't  you  know  where  he  is, —  by  the 
boxes'?" 

"  No,"  said  Alice  briefly.  "  He  brings  'em  up,  I 
suppose,  or  sends  them  by  hand.  Abel  was  sly  about 
nothing,  always;  that's  the  way  of  blockheads." 


2i6  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

"And  you  accept  them'?"  said  Violet,  her  eye- 
brows up.  "  I  only  want  to  know,  dear, —  is  that  all 
right?" 

Alice  grinned  at  her  cheerfully.  "  All  correct," 
she  said.  "  He  directs  to  Mother,  with  a  line  inside, 
hoping  she'll  accept,  from  hers  respectfully.  'J'kafs 
done  in  the  best  circles." 

Violet  leant  back  in  her  chair  again.  Really,  the 
situation  was  rather  comic,  but  she  dared  not  laugh. 
Perhaps  Uncle  Arthur  had  given  Peacock  leave  to 
send.  Poor  Mrs.  Eccles  was  his  cousin,  after  all, 
and  a  kind  of  invalid.  All  might  be  well,  though  it 
looked  a  little  shady  on  the  surface.  And  it  was 
nice  (though  funny)  of  Peacock  to  remember  Alice 
with  such  clockwork  regularity,  when  she  had  re- 
jected him  with  crushing  scorn. 

"  It's  a  great  thing,"  she  said  delicately  to  Alice, 
"  To  have  a  taste  in  common,  isn't  it?  I  think  roses 
are  a  charming  attention.  Now  that  sort  of  thing, 
Alice,  my  friend  Mr.  Shovell  omits  to  do.  Mightn't 
that  be  a  fine  distinction  between  the  sorts?  " 

"  I  daresay,"  said  Alice.  "  He's  a  gentleman, — 
the  genuine  article." 

"That  is  not  what  I  meant;  please  don't  be  dis- 
agreeable. I  meant  a  distinction  between  the  sort 
of  friend  Charles  is,  and  will  always  be,  to  me,  and 
Abel  is,  or  would  fain  be,  to  you." 

Alice  laughed.  "  As  you  like,"  she  said.  "  It  may 
be  the  other  thing  I  said  as  well." 


LENNOXES  217 

"  No,"  said  Violet.  "  For  a  lover,  it  is  correct,  if  a 
little  old-fashioned.  There  is  the  Marquis  de  Fer- 
volles,  who  is  as  fine  a  gentleman  as  anyone  would 
wish  to  see." 

"  Does  he  send  you  flowers?  "  said  Alice  sharply. 

"  No.  He  sends  lovely  nosegays  to  Mother, 
though, —  which  I  put  in  water.  Not  the  least  the 
same  as  your  case,"  she  added  hastily.  "  No  compli- 
ment at  all  to  me  intended.  He  is  simply  Mother's 
follower,  not  mine,  do  you  see?  Of  that  I  have 
evidence  and  to  spare." 

"  I  don't  like  that  word  in  your  mouth,"  observed 
Miss  Eccles.  "  I  wish  I  hadn't  used  it.  Everyone 
should  talk  their  own  way,  unless  they  want  to  be 
mistaken.  I  don't  like  the  insinuation  either.  Miss 
Ashwin,  to  tell  the  truth.  I  don't  know  much  of 
Marquises  and  their  doings,  naturally.  But  even  if 
it's  the  case  as  you  say,  she's  your  mother,  and  it 
doesn't  seem  to  me  you  ought  to " 

"  You  are  perfectly  right,  Alice,"  said  Violet 
piteously.  "  But  didn't  I  tell  you  we  were  fast  I  I'm 
hardly  fit  to  consort  with.  I  thought  you  would  be 
prepared." 

"  I  saw  your  mother,"  said  Alice,  gathering  dig- 
nity. "  And  naturally,  I  knew  what  to  expect.  Very 
well.  You  know  me,  and  you  can  leave  me  to  gather 
the  rest,  without  making  what  I  might  call  glaring 
statements.  That's  what  the  newspapers  do, —  the 
cheaper  ones.    Personally " 


2i8  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

"  Personally,  you  call  it  questionable  taste,"  said 
Violet.  "  I  know  you  do,  dear.  So  do  L  So  does 
Charles,  probably.    But  that's  just  ?7ie^  all  over.." 

"You  mean  you  speak  to  him  about  it"?"  Miss 
Eccles'  severity  grew  blank.  She  ceased  work  to  gaze 
at  Violet. 

"  I  am  afraid  I  do,  and  have  done  from  the  first 
meeting.    Does  that  make  me  quite  impossible  *?  " 

"And  you  call  yourself  reticent,"  said  Alice, 
scoring  with  a  thimble  on  the  table.  "  Fine  lot  of 
reticence  about  that." 

"  But,  Alice,  listen."  Miss  Ashwin  leant  forward 
to  reason  with  her  critic.  "  When  it's  a  glaring  fact, 
why  not  a  glaring  statement *?  " 

"Because," — Alice  walked  over  her  calmly, — 
"  when  it's  your  mother,  you  gloss  it  over.  Facts  and 
statements  alike,  you  do.  Mothers  are  mothers,  and 
I'll  hear  nothing  against  that  view." 

Another  pause.  There  was  a  weak  place  in  Miss 
Eccles'  admirable  armour,  and  Violet  was  wondering 
whether  she  had  courage  to  attack  it.  She  gathered 
courage,  consciously  and  by  degrees. 

"  Alice,"  she  said.  "  Tou  told  me  once  that  your 
mother  drinks." 

Miss  Eccles  blushed  charmingly.  "  So  she  does," 
she  said  hastily,  "  but  that's  a  kind  of  joke,  and 
different." 

"  I  don't  believe,"  said  Violet  with  melancholy 


LENNOXES  219 

intensity,  "  it's  even  true.  I  think  it  far  worse  to 
make  charges  against  your  mother  that  are  false, 
than  even  to  make  true  ones.     There  I  " 

"  Is  that  your  opinion^  "  said  Alice. 

"  It  is,"  said  Violet.    Silence. 

"  Sometimes  I've  wondered,"  said  Alice,  "  if  I 
would  tell  you  about  that,  some  time.  But  then  I've 
thought,  better  not.  You  might  not  understand  me. 
It's  a  joke  with  vexation  at  the  root  of  it,  like  so 
many  jokes." 

"  Dear  Alice,"  murmured  Violet.  "  No,  you  must 
not  trouble  to  tell  me.  I  believe  I  know  the  greater 
part." 

"  Abel's  at  the  bottom  of  it,"  said  Alice.  "  Did  you 
guess  that?  Oh  no,  little  darling,  not  you  I  I  don't 
know  what  it  was  in  Abel  that  rubbed  me  up  con- 
tinually, making  me  do  and  say  what  I'd  rather  not. 
Well,  perhaps  you  saw  through  the  drinking  puzzle, 
being  such  a  clever  pussy," 

"  I  have  regretted  ever  since,"  said  Violet,  "  that 
I  let  her  drink  so  much  that  day.  I  put  two  and  two 
together,  which  is  a  thing  mere  Board-school  children 
can  do,  very  soon  after  that.  I  thought  it  funny  of 
you  not  to  warn  me,  since  you  knew  strong  tea  was 
dangerous  for  her.  I  have  found  out  about  the 
craving  from  Father,  and  the  possible  results,  and 
almost  torn  my  hair  to  think  I  did  not  follow  your 
meaning  more  readily.  It  seem«  'J^  innocent,  doesn't 
it,  in  the  early  stages." 


220  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

"  So  it  does,"  said  Alice.  "  You  mean  to  tell  me, 
you  went  and  talked  to  a  doctor  about  such  things^  " 
She  shuddered,  quite  genuinely.  "  I  wouldn't  have 
thought  it  of  you." 

"  I  wanted  to  know,"  said  Violet.  "  And  Father 
is  beautifully  clear,  even  when  he  treads  among 
Horrors.  Of  course  there  are  some  things  —  I  often 
wonder  how  he  can  bear  it  himself." 

"  Oh,  men,"  said  Alice. 

"  Father  is  not  quite  a  man,"  said  Violet.  "  No, — 
stop, —  I  won't  hear  you  on  that  subject."  She  held 
up  a  hand,  and  Alice  laughed.  Alice  had  seen  fit  to 
judge  Dr.  Ashwin  far  too  hastily,  on  the  evidence  of 
her  one  meeting  with  him,  the  day  he  was  being 
slowly  forced  to  miss  a  train.  As  Violet  contended, 
no  one  can  be  at  their  best  on  such  an  occasion. 
"  Tell  me  how  Abel  was  responsible  for  the  drinking- 
puzzlement,"  she  said,  to  shift  the  subject. 

"  I'll  try  to,"  said  Alice,  stopping  work.  "  I  can't 
use  your  words.  I  told  you  Abel  drove  me  mad  by 
always  setting  up  to  be  better  than  he  was.  Some 
people  admire  that;  Mum,  for  instance,  but  I  can't 
stick  pretension.  The  trouble  with  Abel  all  along 
was,  he  took  in  Mother  too  easily.  And  he  thought, 
no  doubt,  in  the  cunning  way  of  silly  people,  if  he 
could  diddle  Mum,  she  being  the  genuine  article,  he 
could  diddle  me.  He  did  it  well,  I  can  tell  you !  At 
times  I  got  tired,  teasing  him  to  no  purpose.     I 


LENNOXES  221 

couldn't  catch  him  oft"  his  guard,  and  he  wouldn't 
lose  his  temper,  nor  would  he  take  a  glass,  for  all  my 
pressing  him.  A  blue  ribbon,  church-going  man,  my 
dear,  and  one  of  Nature's  gentlemen, —  that's  what 
Mother  said,  so  as  to  get  round  the  little  drawback 
of  the  name.  He  read  the  Bible  to  her  before  he 
left, —  might  have  been  a  blessed  curate  by  his 
soapy  voice  —  no,  I  couldn't  stick  it  anyhow.  I 
believed  there  was  something  behind,  some  devil, 
and  my  devil  got  awake  in  me  longing  to  bring  it 
out.  I  told  him  Mother  drank,  that  day  we  had  it 
out  together,  when  he  was  singing  her  praises.  I 
said  it  just  to  see  him  blink  and  stop.  But  even  then 
he  didn't  lose  his  temper.  I  don't  know  if  he  be- 
lieved it,  I'm  sure, —  I  don't  know  if  he  even  took 
it  in, —  but  that's  what  suggested  the  fashion  of 
speech  to  me,  in  the  beginning.  I  didn't  mean  ex- 
actly to  be  funny,  but  it  relieved  me  somehow.  She 
does  drink,"  finished  Alice,  as  though  arguing  with 
herself. 

"  And  you  never  found  a  devil  in  the  poor  man, 
after  all,"  said  Violet. 

"Didn't  I'?"  said  Alice  grimly.  "All  right." 
She  turned  to  her  work. 

"  You  might  at  least  have  sent  him  away  for 
three  years,  to  prove  himself  worthy  of  you,"  argued 
Violet  in  Abel's  interest.     "  Like  the  stories." 

"  Yes,    I  might,"    said    Alice,    working    hard. 


222  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

"  Instead  of  that  I  sent  him  away  for  three  months, 
and  he  spent  'em  in  disgracing  his  father's  name." 

"  Alice !  " 

"  Yes?  " 

"Is  that  true *?" 

Miss  Eccles  lifted  her  proud  head  on  her  fine  neck, 
and  as  she  gazed  full  at  Violet,  her  beautiful  long 
eyes  were  full  of  tears. 

"  I  ought  never  to  have  told  you,  of  course,"  she 
said.  "  I  don't  know  how  you  drag  things  out,  I'm 
sure.  But  I  don't  think  you'll  let  it  go  further. 
That's  why  I  broke  with  Abel,  really.  A  police 
officer  called  —  never  mind  for  what.  Mum  said  it 
was  my  fault,  called  me  names, —  she  was  half 
frantic  with  the  shame  of  it, —  no  wonder!  I  was 
frightened  to  death,  thinking  of  his  mother.  She'd 
been  so  good  to  me.  ...  If  you'd  seen  him, 
sitting  week  after  week  in  our  front  room,  like  an 
image  in  his  clean  collar,  you'd  have  been  frightened 
too.  It's  his  collar  I  kept  thinking  of  .  .  . 
it's  not  fair  to  turn  on  a  girl  like  that."  She  had 
covered  her  eyes  with  her  hand,  striving  to  find 
words,  but  unable,  evidently.  "  Oh,  my  God,  that 
night  I  —  and  I  was  only  seventeen.  That  taught 
me  what  men  are,  once  for  good.  I'd  never  trust 
them  now." 

"  They  set  him  on  his  legs  again,"  she  resumed 


LENNOXES  223 

after  a  period,  when  \'iolet  had  consoled  her.  "  He 
fell  very  soft,  considering.  He  didn't  deserve  half 
he  got.  The  Peacocks  do  get  round  people,  same 
way  my  little  Kit  did  once.  I'll  never  see  Kit  again, 
nor  them  down  there.  Not  that  they'd  really  think 
I'm  answerable, —  they're  blessed  good  folk, —  but  I 
couldn't  face  them,  not  with  that  on  my  mind.  I 
remember  it  at  nights  sometimes, —  the  hot  nights 
like  that  one  was.  .  .  .  To  see  the  viciousness 
spring  out  of  a  man's  face,  my  dear, —  all  the  bad 
of  him  at  once, —  I  hope  you  never  may.  He'd  been 
so  quiet  up  to  then,  nice-spoken  and  all."  She  waited, 
mastering  her  emotion  steadily.  "  Oh  well,"  she 
said,  "  I  expect  he'll  marry  a  lady.  That's  what  he's 
fitted  for  best,  and  w^hat  I  told  him  to  do." 

"  Alice  I  "  Violet  implored.  "  You  don't  know 
what  you're  saying." 

"  Don't  I,  dear?  You  never  saw  him.  Abel's  all 
right.  He's  not  a  bad  fellow  really.  He  did  behave 
badly,  but  I  think  he  learnt  his  lesson.  He's  a  finer 
man  to  look  at  than  my  father  was,  and  Father 
made  a  good  marriage,  I  mean  according  to  that 
standard.  Mum's  father  was  a  bishop's  chaplain, 
and  if  that's  not  all  right,  what  is?" 

By  this  time  she  had  winked  her  tears  away,  and 
smiled  at  Violet  through  the  mist  that  remained. 
She  looked  exquisitely  lovely,  and  the  other  girl. 


224  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

still  and  attentive,  could  not  draw  her  eyes  away. 
It  has  a  nobility  all  its  own,  that  resignation  of  a 
proud  spirit  to  lasting  self-reproach. 

"  When  Abel  was  on  his  feet  again,"  she  told 
Violet  gently,  "  I  wrote  a  line,  just  to  say  I  was  glad 
to  hear.  It  was  just  all  I  could  manage.  He  never 
answered  it." 

"  Except  by  flowers,"  said  Violet.  She  mused  a 
little  longer,  her  chin  supported  on  her  hand,  her 
grey  eyes  resting  upon  Alice.  "  Peacock's  Farm," 
she  said,  "  I  suppose  his  home  is  called." 

"  Holybrook  Farm,  near  Barnstaple,"  said  Alice 
quickly.  "  But  he's  not  there,  I  know  that.  They 
wouldn't  have  him.  His  father  drew  the  line,  after 
—  what  I  was  telling  you.  Jem'U  get  the  farm, — 
the  next.     That's  justice."     She  bit  her  lip. 

"  Poor  Abel,"  said  Violet  softly.  She  turned  her 
eyes  upon  her  work,  which  had  lain  untouched  for 
ten  minutes  at  least.  "  Darling,  I  have  set  this 
sleeve  all  wrong,"  she  observed,  with  the  same  air  of 
pensive  detachment,  her  head  still  resting  on  her 
hand.  "  It  looks  extraordinary,  even  for  the 
youngest  child." 

Alice  snatched  it  from  her  to  examine.  "  It's  ail 
right,"  she  said,  after  a  moment.  But  the  talk 
turned  upon  technicalities,  whither  it  is  not  necessary 
to  follow  it  further. 


VIII 

A  MARQUIS  BECOMES  OF  INTEREST 

Matters  had  not  advanced  much  further  than 
this,  when  Violet  broke  down.  It  was  a  very  hot 
season,  and  Alice  had  warned  her  that  she  would, 
if  she  persisted  in  doing  without  a  holiday.  Violet 
replied  that  nothing  but  regular  occupation  saved 
her  from  suicide,  in  the  conditions  of  accumulating 
horror  at  home;  and  Alice  pointed  out  sensibly  that 
such  misleading  exaggeration  was  a  symptom. 

As  a  fact,  the  girl  looked  whiter  every  day  during 
their  period  of  busy  seclusion,  and  the  state  of 
desperation  to  which  she  was  always  subject  at 
intervals  seemed  to  have  become  a  permanency. 
Fortunately,  as  she  told  Alice,  her  "  off  times  "  and 
her  father's  were  the  same, —  thus  making  it  possible 
to  Violet  to  exist  amid  horror,  apparently,  in  order 
to  be  at  his^ide. 

One  morning  she  walked  in  with  the  news  that 
Lennoxes  was  honoured  with  an  order  from  Mrs. 
Claude  Ashwin,  and  that  the  forewoman  of  the 
said  concern  was  to  go  up  and  see  about  it  immedi- 
ately.   Alice  allowed  herself  an  objurgation  for  the 


226  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

sake  of  appearances;  but  she  pinned  on  her  hat 
with  a  spark  in  her  eye  which  suggested  some  private 
interest  in  the  prospect.  She  had  never  forgotten 
Mrs.  Ashwin,  and  mentioned  her  at  intervals  as 
though,  like  Mr.  Gibbs,  she  was  permanently  ready 
for  further  light  on  the  subject.  She  mounted  the 
car,  therefore,  looking  extremely  haughty  for 
Joliffe's  benefit,  and  swirled  away  in  state  to  Violet's 
home,  where  she  and  Eveleen  had  a  short  armoured 
controversy. 

Miss  Eccles  arrived  very  soon  at  the  gist  of  the 
affair,  for  all  Mrs.  Ashwin's  languor  in  detailing  it. 
There  was  nothing  abstruse  in  the  idea,  indeed,  being 
Eveleen's.  She  had  pretended  to  want  a  morning- 
gown,  but  what  she  really  wanted  was  a  maid.  She 
desired  also  to  save  money,  and  replace  Leontine  on 
cheaper  terms.  She  was  going  to  stay  at  a  smart 
country  place,  with  some  grandees  at  whose  title  Alice 
schemed  to  arrive  in  vain.  The  little  London  girl 
who  had  hitherto  "  managed "  for  her  was  not 
sufficient  to  support  Mrs.  Ashwin's  dignity  in  these 
surroundings;  and  she  had  done  Miss  Eccles  the 
honour  of  thinking  of  her  in  Fanny's  stead.  Nothing 
was  to  come  of  it  eventually,  so  far  as  Alice  could 
discover,  but  Mrs.  Ashwin's  convenience, —  a  thing 
for  which,  in  her  own  household,  the  gods  did  strive. 

Whereupon, —  having  collected  all  the  evidence 
conscientiously,  that  she  might  be  sure  of  wasting 


LENNOXES  227 

no  effect, —  Alice  uprose  in  all  her  young  splendour, 
and  told  Mrs.  Ashwin  what  she  thought.  What 
Alice  thought  we  cannot  presume  to  put  down,  for 
she  considered  herself  insulted  by  the  proposal,  and 
that  was  a  situation  that  suited  her  and  her  best 
vocabulary  to  perfection.  She  had  whole  phrases 
ready-made  and  stored  against  the  necessity,  some 
of  which  had  languished  long  unuttered;  for  there 
was  sufficient  vivacity  in  Alice's  outer  aspect  to  check 
insult,  as  a  rule,  on  the  brink.  Her  speech,  though 
lively,  was  not  long;  but  the  result  was,  as  Alice  had 
hoped,  to  "  do  Mrs.  Ashwin's  business  "  completely. 
It  also  did  Alice's,  by  the  way.  The  fact  was, 
nobody  had  ever  so  treated  Eveleen  before,  and  the 
noval  sensation  stirred  her  rather  agreeably.  She 
had  genuinely  thought  the  girl  would  jump  at  the 
opportunity  of  exchanging  that  stuffy  little  hole  at 
Battersea  for  Dering  Park,  one  of  the  finest  places 
in  England.  Since  she  did  not  jump,  however, 
Eveleen  abandoned  it  calmly,  and  recurred  to  the 
question  of  costumes.  In  these  matters,  her  instinct 
was  sure;  and,  as  a  result  of  Alice's  eloquence,  and 
the  somewhat  prolonged  contemplation  of  Alice's 
clothes  and  figure  that  eloquence  allowed,  Eveleen 
gave  her  more  commissions  than  she  had  intended, 
one  the  remodeling  of  an  important  theatre-cloak. 

"  I  am  going  down  to  the  country  this  afternoon," 
she  observed,  as  Miss  Eccles  gathered  up  the  things 


228  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

to  depart.  "  Do  you  happen  to  know  if  Violet  in- 
tends to  come  with  me"?  " 

"  I  presume  she  does  not,  Mrs.  Ashwin,"  said 
Alice  in  her  customer-y  manner,  "  since  I  left  her 
settling  in  for  a  day's  work  at  Battersea.  I've  no 
doubt  she'd  be  the  better  for  it,  though.  If  I  were 
you,  I'd  make  her  go." 

Eveleen  did  not  answer  at  once,  and  Alice,  charged 
as  she  was  in  advance,  rather  trembled  for  the  effects 
of  her  own  insolence. 

"Is  she  doing  it  out  of  obstinacy'?"  said  the 
mother  at  last,  as  though  to  herself. 

"  You  never  thought  she  would  keep  it  up,  did 
you*?"  said  Alice.  "I  dare  say  it  rather  puts  you 
out." 

"What's  she  looking  like?"  said  Eveleen.  "I 
have  hardly  seen  her  lately,"  she  added,  as  the  girl 
swung  round  upon  her  to  glare. 

"  Oh, —  she's  looking  thin  and  pretty  as  usual. 
Tired  a  bit, —  she  feels  the  heat." 

"  Her  clothes  are  all  right,"  murmured  Eveleen. 

"  Looks  like  hers  don't  keep,"  said  Alice  cheer- 
fully. "  She's  the  kind  that  looks  ugly  after  a  bad 
night." 

Eveleen  turned,  her  chin  resting  upon  a  ringed 
hand.    "  What  do  you  call  her,  may  I  ask"?  " 

Alice  set  her  lips.  "  Miss  Ashwin,  I  call  her.  She 
calls  me  Alice." 


LENNOXES  229 

"  Why  don't  you  call  her  Violet?  " 

"  'Cause  I  won't,"  said  Miss  Eccles;  adding 
haughtily,  "  and  because  I  can't  pronounce  it." 

"You  can't?" 

"  No:  none  of  us  Cockneys  can." 

Eveleen  left  the  point,  as  though  satisfied,  and 
mentioned  that  she  would  be  coming  through  town 
again  on  such  a  day,  and  could  be  fitted  at  such  a 
time,  if  convenient  to  Miss  Lennox. 

"  We'll  make  it  convenient,"  said  Alice,  calmly, 
and  appended  as  a  happy  afterthought,  "  I  am  your 
height  and  shape,  more  or  less,  so  Miss  Ashwin  can 
fit,  provisionally,  on  me."  Then  she  took  her  de- 
parture, and  drew  a  breath  when  she  got  outside. 

"  I  cheeked  your  mother,  dear,"  she  explained  to 
Violet.  "  I'm  bound  to,  or  I  should  be  afraid  of  her. 
I  hope  she's  not  offended,  for  your  sake.  She  didn't 
show  any  sign." 

"  She  never  does,"  said  Violet.  "  That  is  Mother's 
secret.  I  only  wish  to  goodness  I  could  imitate  it, 
and  Father  too;  but  for  the  life  of  us  both,  we 
can't." 

As  it  happened,  however,  Eveleen  was  less  con- 
tent with  life  than  her  cool  appearance  had  led 
Alice  to  expect.  She  had  made  up  her  mind  to  have 
Violet  with  her  for  this  visit,  and  for  more  reasons 
than  one.  In  the  first  place,  the  old  master  of  Bering 
Park  had  sent  a  personal  request  for  the  girl,  who 


230  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

was  a  favourite  with  him,  and  it  is  worth  while  in 
life  to  pay  attention  to  requests  from  such  quarters. 
So  Mrs.  Ashwin  had  allowed  it,  though  doubtfully, 
the  first  place  in  her  considerations.  Next,  owing  to 
Miss  Eccles'  recent  show  of  spirit,  she  was  now  con- 
demned to  go  without  assistance,  and  her  daughter's 
clever  hands  were  better  than  nothing,  as  she  had 
frequently  proved.  Violet  was  both  adroit  and 
obliging,  like  Claude,  and  she  naturally  had  more 
experience  than  Claude  in  details  of  feminine  toilette. 
This  was  worth  consideration,  beyond  any  doubt  at 
all.  To  conclude,  and  say  all  in  a  word,  she  was 
taking  M.  de  Fervolles  with  her  in  Claude's  place, — 
uninvited;  and  though  she  had  no  instant's  doubt 
she  could  extend  her  segis  to  him,  and  make  anyone 
she  chose  to  bring  in  her  train  acceptable  to  her 
hosts,  it  did  seem  preferable  even  to  Eveleen, —  since 
she  intended  to  exhibit  him  as  a  pretendu  for 
her  daughter, —  that  the  daughter  in  question  should 
be  on  view. 

These  practical  thoughts  swam  slowly  across 
her  horizon  at  intervals  during  the  peaceful  morn- 
ing hours,  and  affected,  beyond  any  doubt,  the 
trend  of  subsequent  events:  which,  with  due  respect 
to  Mrs.  Ashwin's  mental  methods,  we  detail  in 
order. 

The  Marquis  did  not  appear  to  lunch,  though  an 
empty  place  proclaimed  he  had  been  expected.  After 


LENNOXES  231 

the  meal,  finding  herself  for  once  alone  with  her 
husband,  Eveleen  curled  herself  sidelong  in  a  chair 
in  an  attitude  that  signified  she  was  in  a  mood  to 
converse.  The  girlish  attitude  was  charming,  and 
Claude  might  have  been  not  unwilling  on  his  side, 
had  he  been  at  leisure.  As  it  was,  he  had  his  back 
turned  to  her  at  the  bureau,  and  was  engaged  in 
making  notes  on  letters  against  time,  and  inter- 
viewing his  secretary,  at  intervals,  simultaneously. 

Eveleen  looked  at  his  back  discontentedly.  She 
supposed  he  was  "  in  a  temper,"  —  her  own  term  for 
certain  moods.  She  had  not  been  thinking  much 
about  him  lately,  but  when  she  did  turn  her  thoughts 
that  way,  it  was  annoying  not  to  have  his  notice  in 
return.  He  had  been  tiresomely  inattentive  to  de 
FervoUes  too,  though  she  had  dangled  that  gentle- 
man in  his  foreground  very  conspicuously.  It  did 
not  occur  to  Claude,  apparently,  that  he  could  be 
useful  in  the  matter  of  Violet.  He  was,  at  times, 
culpably  dull  and  unobservant,  considering  his  repu- 
tation. He  looked  right  through  things  which  might 
really  be  said  to  stare  him  in  the  face ;  and  attended 
to  other  disagreeable  trifles  instead. 

At  the  present  moment  he  was  attending  to  a 
letter  he  had  taken  from  his  pile,  reading  it  in  his 
singularly  still  manner  of  concentration, —  no  temper 
apparent  to  the  view.  When  Eveleen  remarked, 
just  to  open  the  conversation,  that  he  was  turning 


232  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

grey  behind  his  ear,  he  said,  "  Really?  "  in  a  per- 
fectly abstracted  tone,  and  continued  reading. 

"Who's  that  letter  from'?"  said  Eveleen. 

He  moved  the  sheet  so  that  the  signature,  "  Elinor 
Brading,"  became  visible  to  her, —  nothing  else. 
This  laziness  was  revolting  to  Eveleen,  who  liked  to 
be  answered  politel)''.  Presently  he  jerked  the  sheet 
aside  with  a  youthful  gesture,  and  observed,  to 
himself,  not  her, —  "  I  wish  women  ever  realised  the 
point  at  which  the  friendly  obligation  and  the  other 
divide." 

"  Let  me  see,"  said  Eveleen,  stretching  a  white 
hand  to  the  sheet. 

"  Sorry,"  said  Claude,  abstracting,  folding,  and 
pocketing  it  firmly.  Eveleen  frowned  at  the  dis- 
courtesy. However,  on  reflection,  she  found  she  was 
unable  to  be  jealous  of  Lady  Brading,  who  valued 
Claude  in  a  manner  she  could  not  imitate,  certainly, 
—  but  in  no  manner  to  matter  the  least.  She  had 
been  his  sister's  friend,  and  was, —  Eveleen  calcu- 
lated at  leisure, —  older  than  he.  Further,  she  was 
older  even  than  her  age  with  grief  and  anxiety,  so 
she  really  could  not  be  taken  seriously  by  anybody. 

"  I  suppose  Elinor  wants  you  to  attend  him 
again,"  she  remarked,  "  now  he  is  weaker  and  less 
cantankerous." 

"  That  was  not  her  object  in  writing,"  said  Claude. 

"  Of  course  you  would  never  admit  it  was,"  said 


LENNOXES  233 

Eveleen  contentedly.  She  curled  a  little  more  in 
her  chair,  which  proved  comfortable,  and  laid  her 
head  down  sidelong.  He  was  only  writing  things 
now,  and  could  not  long  keep  up  his  pretence  of  being 
too  busy  to  look  at  her.  He  spoke  soon,  sure  enough, 
though  absently. 

"Joliffe's  late,  isn't  he*?"  he  said.  "Are  you 
going  down  alone?  " 

"  De  Fervolles,"  enumerated  Eveleen,  "  and 
Violet.     I  have  sent  him  down  to  fetch  her." 

Instantly  she  got  a  glance.  "  Sent  de  Fervolles*? 
What  on  earth  for'?  " 

"  I  thought  it  would  amuse  him,"  said  Eveleen, 
"  and  I  wanted  a  little  more  time.  That  girl  Fanny 
is  so  slow  with  the  boxes." 

"  I  see,"  he  said,  turning  back  again.  "  You  sent 
him  with  sealed  orders,  did  you?  Or  trusted  him  to 
persuade  her?  " 

"  I  never  suppose  a  man  like  that  will  not  use  his 
tongue,"  said  Eveleen.  "'  As  for  sealed  orders,  I  said 
I  wanted  her.  Frenchmen  never  imagine  mothers 
can  be  disobeyed."  She  rolled  her  lip  out  prettily. 
"  Anyhow,"  she  concluded,  "  he  will  enjoy  a  scene, 
and  I  do  not." 

"  A  change  of  scene,"  Claude  suggested,  opening  a 
new  letter.  "  I  don't  think  you  can  assume  he  is 
not  at  home  in  an  atelier,  you  know.  You  can 
assume  nothing  about  those  persons." 


234  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

"  The  woman  is  there,"  said  Eveleen.  A  pause, 
during  which,  though  he  knew  better,  he  did  not 
contradict  her.  Between  those  two  girls,  indeed, 
he  was  mildly  sorry  for  de  Fervolles.  His  lip 
curled  over  his  reading  as  he  pictured  the  inter- 
view. 

"  Do  you  like  him,  Claude'?  "  Eveleen  demanded. 

"  Well, —  he  reads  decently,"  said  Claude  at 
leisure:  or  rather  not  at  leisure,  for  he  was  writing. 

"  I  thought  you  would  notice  that,"  said  Eveleen 
with  satisfaction.  "  I  told  him  to  take  an  oppor- 
tunity to  read  that  poem  to  Violet,  after  I  had  gone 
out  last  night." 

"  Ahl    I  fear  the  opportunity  did  not  occur." 

"  Why  not  ^" 

"  Because,"  said  he,  having  apparently  weighed 
the  question  accurately  in  all  its  bearings  while 
he  addressed  his  letter,  "  I  haled  him  off  to 
billiards.  He  is  quite  a  good  player  by  our  rules, 
as  you  said.  He  must  have  wasted  his  youth  in 
England." 

"  How  selfish  you  are,  Claude,"  said  Eveleen  with 
acrimony. 

"  It's  so  rare  to  find  a  man  I  can  play  with,"  he 
excused  himself  equably.  "  Besides,  Puss  was  all 
right.  She  and  Ford  were  doing  music,  weren't  you, 
Ford^     Making  noise  enough,  anyhow." 

"Hope  we  didn't  shake  the  table,  sir,"  said  the 


LENNOXES  235 

young  secretary,  who  had  come  in  to  fetch  the 
finished  notes.  The  doctor's  basement  billiard-room, 
it  should  be  said,  was  just  beneath  the  drawing- 
room  piano. 

Eveleen  gazed  at  Mr.  Ford  as  if  she  could  not  see 
him.  He  did  not  exist,  naturally,  beside  the  Mar- 
quis de  Fervolles,  and  he  ought  to  know  it.  It  was 
so  like  Claude  to  choose  a  musical  secretary,  regard- 
less of  her  convenience.  She  began  to  fear  she  must 
start  planning  all  over  again,  in  Violet's  interest, 
with  these  intensely  stupid  men  about  her. 

Presently,  as  Joliffe  still  delayed,  and  Claude,  her 
natural  prey,  still  pretended  to  be  occupied,  she 
produced  a  plan.  The  plan  showed  signs  of  what 
was,  for  Eveleen,  laboured  thought,  and  her  husband 
received  it  respectfully.  She  had  at  least  thought 
some  way  in  advance,  as  far  ahead  as  Violet's 
birthday.  Violet's  nineteenth  birthday  fell  in  early 
December.  Eveleen  proposed  to  give  a  party  for  it 
on  her  return  to  town ;  a  young  party,  she  explained, 
smallish,  not  more  than  twenty  couples, —  nice,  of 
course. 

"Twenty*?"  said  Claude  with  solemnity.  "And 
nice, —  and  young?  I  doubt  if  you  will  find  so  many 
in  the  world.  Violet,"  he  added,  "  has  not  many 
friends." 

"  I  am  sure  I  don't  know  why,"  said  Eveleen. 
"  She's  been  bridesmaid  often  enough."    After  nam- 


236  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

ing  in  a  few  more  or  less  worthy  young  people  who 
occurred  to  her,  she  said: 

"  The  Gibbs  girls  could  come  up, —  and  the  Brad- 
ing  boy." 

"  I  shouldn't  count  on  him,"  said  Claude.  "  For- 
rest has  decided  to  operate  again,  she  says  in  this. 
That  with  him  is  a  last  resort." 

"  How  tiresome,"  said  his  wife,  and  brooded. 
"There's  that  young  Shovell, —  it's  a  good  name 
enough.  I  suppose  if  we  have  the  girls  there's  no 
avoiding  him." 

"  If  you  consult  Violet's  own  preferences, —  none 
at  all." 

"  Oh,"  said  Eveleen.  A  masterly  pause  ensued. 
"  Can  we  avoid  the  mother  *?  " 

"  Not  if  you  want  Arthur  Gibbs,"  he  returned. 
"  Otherwise,  for  a  young  party,  easily." 

"  I  supposed  you  would  want  Arthur  Gibbs.  Be- 
sides, he  christened  her,  didn't  he*?  " 

"  I  believe  so,"  said  Claude.  "  You  were  pres- 
ent." She  applied  to  him  constantly  for  facts  as  she 
did  to  the  clock,  or  any  other  domestic  machine  for 
saving  labour ;  and  occasionally  the  trick  vexed  him. 
"  You  will  be  asking  me  how  old  she  is  next,"  he 
said,  rising  at  last,  and  moving,  in  a  slightly  worried 
manner,  to  the  hearth.  Eveleen's  calm  persistence 
had  evidently  overtlirown  the  other  engagements, — 
which  was  a  passing  satisfaction. 


I 


LENNOXES  237 

"I  shall  not, —  her  age  is  the  point.  I  told  de 
Fervolles  she  was  coming  out  next  year.  He  will 
give  her  something  good,  probably." 

There  was  a  pause.  "  I  say, —  is  he  to  be  of  a 
young  party*?  " 

"  Naturally.  I  am  doing  it  for  him.  He  was 
sounding  me  about  pearls  the  other  day, —  some  he 
had  seen  in  Paris." 

"  I  am  giving  her  pearls,"  said  the  doctor  swiftly. 
"  He  can  leave  his  filth  in  France." 

"  Claude  I  "  She  passed  over  the  unguarded 
temper  of  his  tone.  "Are  you  really *?  Where  are 
they*?" 

"  Lenz  has  been  collecting  for  me  for  a  year,"  he 
said,  relapsing  into  his  ordinary  manner.  "  They'll 
be  ready  for  the  debut  all  right.  I  will  show  you 
somet'me  if  you  like." 

"You  never  gave  me  pearls,"  said  Eveleen,  as 
though  considering. 

He  looked  at  her  silently.  He  had  given  her 
various  gems,  all  distinctive  as  they  were  beautiful, 
and  he  always  knew  what  she  was  wearing.  The 
night  before,  not  for  the  first  time,  she  had  worn 
stones  his  memory  could  not  trace,  though  they 
marked  a  taste  as  fastidious  as  his  own.  Oddly 
enough,  none  of  his  many  rivals  had  ever  stirred  him 
as  this  Parisian  did;  and  her  attitude  on  the  subject, 
whether  it  was  to  be  laid  to  natural  cunning  or  self- 


238  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

deception,  drove  him  to  his  wits'  end  to  deal  with 
adequately.  He  could  not  keep  at  her  level.  Do 
what  he  would,  his  thoughts  outran  her,  and  came 
back  only  to  despise.  She  must  know  what  she  was 
about,  with  such  a  man.  In  her  own  affairs,  the 
matters  of  instinct,  Eveleen  was  not  stupid, —  he 
could  wish  she  had  been  more  so.  The  man  was  not 
a  fool  either.  De  FervoUes  was  his  own  sort,  with 
a  difference,  which  may  have  accounted  for  his 
instantaneous  aversion.  He  had  all  the  stage 
trickery  at  command,  and  stepped  through  his  part 
very  competently,  as  though  accustomed. 

Claude  intended  personally  to  play  his  own  part, 
in  the  somewhat  threadbare  situation  ofFered  him, 
as  badly  as  possible,  in  order  to  put  the  ruffling  hero 
out;  and  he  had  silently  sworn  not  to  let  Violet 
play  a  part  at  all.  He  was  far  too  observant  to 
deceive  himself  with  any  sentiment  about  girls' 
innocence.  The  girl  was  his  girl,  and  the  chances 
were  she  had  seen  more  than  the  half,  even  of  what 
he  saw  himself,  in  the  short  periods  that  she  had 
spent,  of  late,  at  home.  But  he  would  not  have  her 
spirit  offended  by  any  direct  contact  with  the  tinsel 
and  truck  of  the  vaudeville  atmosphere,  to  which 
his  wife  seemed  to  take  so  kindly.  If  need  were, 
Violet  must  know  the  facts,  but  always  interpreted 
by  him.  She  should  see  life  through  his  eyes,  since 
for  her  sake  he  had  kept  his  vision  clear.    Such  was 


LENNOXES  239 

the  vow  he  was  repeating,  while  he  watched  his  wife 
with  cool  dark  eyes  unmoved. 

And  Eveleen,  silent  as  he  was,  was  conscious  it 
was  war.  She  rolled  out  her  lip  under  his  scrutiny, 
allowing  her  amusement  at  his  childishness  to  be 
visible,  fastened  her  eyes  just  below  his  chin  while 
she  buttoned  her  glove,  and  then  turned  her  back 
and  walked  to  the  window  to  watch  for  the  car. 

Her  expression,  if  it  had  been  seen  from  the  street, 
would  have  been  rather  dangerous.  Claude  should 
know  better,  by  this  time,  than  to  dare  her  like  this. 
She  had  spent  considerable  pains  in  the  matter  of 
de  Fervolles,  who  was,  her  husband  could  not  deny, 
an  excellent  parti.  It  was  very  doubtful  if  Violet 
deserved  as  good,  considering  all  things.  Eveleen 
did  not  care  for  him  particularly, —  till  Claude  defied 
her.  Now,  of  course,  if  the  car  came  back  with 
him  alone,  as  her  husband  seemed  to  expect, —  well, 
a  natural  opportunity,  with  full  leisure  for  retalia- 
tion requiring  no  effort  at  all  on  her  part,  lay  before 
her.  It  was  far  easier  than  answering  Claude  in 
conversation :  it  was  also  by  far  more  effective.  Her 
husband  could  not  accompany  her  to  Dering, —  or 
would  not:  Eveleen  was  vague  as  to  how  far  his 
professional  excuses  carried  weight,  for  he  had 
mounted  the  ladder  so  fast  as  to  confuse  her  slightly: 
and  anyhow,  it  was  very  horrid  of  him  not  to  give 
her  the  pearls  when  she  reminded  him. 


240  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

The  world  had  but  to  look  at  Eveleen  and  her 
daughter  together  to  admit  the  justice  of  the  last 
accusation,  however  they  might  cavil  at  the  rest. 

Violet  was  adamant  to  the  Marquis'  embassy,  and 
would  not  even  see  him.  Little  Sally  Pepper, 
broadly  gaping,  brought  up  his  card.  Violet  sent 
it  down  again  with  "  desoUe^ —  regrets^ —  impos- 
sible^''' traced  across  a  corner  in  her  delicate  hand. 

"  Say  Miss  Ashwin  is  busy  to  the  eyes  if  he  asks 
you,  Sally,"  said  Violet,  and  sank  back  on  the  sofa 
where  she  had  been  resting  when  the  message  came. 
Her  lips  were  set  rather  comically,  and  she  was 
pale. 

"  That's  Mother,"  she  explained  to  Alice.  "  I 
wish  she  wouldn't  goad  the  poor  wretch  to  follow 
me  about.  It's  too  degrading  for  him."  When 
Violet  was  rather  exhausted  and  nervous,  the 
strongest  terms  of  her  vocabulary  came  out. 

Alice,  concealed  behind  the  window-curtain, 
looked  down  to  observe  the  fate  of  the  embassy. 
"  He's  sending  the  man  I  "  she  exclaimed  with  con- 
tempt. 

"  How  faint-hearted,"  said  Violet,  with  her  eyes 
shut.  "  He  might  attempt  the  assault.  They  are 
so  hideously  alarmed  of  English  girls  where  he  comes 
from.  Did  you  know  that?  People  like  Mother 
never   realise   how   acute   the    feeling   is.     .     .     . 


LENNOXES  241 

Yes,"  as  a  knock  sounded  at  the  door.     "  Come  in, 
Joliffe." 

As  Joliffe  approached,  she  held  out  one  hand  to 
him,  and  laid  the  fingers  of  the  other  to  her  lips. 
The  gesture  admitted  the  retainer  to  her  conspiracy. 
Joliffe  only  failed  to  fulfil  the  dramatic  requirements 
by  not  stooping  to  the  hand.  He  did  not  refuse  to 
take  it,  however,  for  Violet's  household  adored  her, 
to  a  man. 

"  I  would  never  have  come  of  myself,  Miss,"  he 
apologised.  "  I  knew  it  was  no  good.  But  the 
Marquis  was  put  out  about  it  to  that  extent " 

"  He's  afraid  of  displeasing  Mother,"  said  Violet. 
"  And  equally  afraid  of  appearing  to  elope  with  me 
in  the  eye  of  all  Battersea.  They  do  so  hate  to  be 
ridiculous.  Now,  let  me  think."  She  put  a  fine 
hand  across  her  face.  "  He  will  tell  her  I  am  ob- 
durate probably,  and  originale, —  French  for  rude. 
Three  words  on  his  own  card  were  certainly  that. 
You,  Joliffe,  will  tell  her  nothing.  You  have  not 
seen  Miss  Ashwin,  do  you  hear*?  We  have  a  large 
order  in,  suddenly  *?  " 

"  Mourning,"  said  Miss  Eccles,  behind. 

"Court  mourning,"  said  Violet.  "A  poor 
prince." 

"  As  you  will.  Miss,"  said  Joliffe  sadly.  Think- 
ing of  his  mistress,  he  made  a  dutiful  effort.  "  It's 
very  nice  down  at  Bering,  in  the  park,  just  now," 


242  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

he  observed.  "  Lord  Dering  asked  for  you  special, 
I  heard." 

"  How  did  you  hear?  "  The  girl  threw  a  glint  at 
him.  "  Bering's  a  sweet  place,  I  adore  it.  Are  my 
things  packed,  Joliffe*?  " 

"  Yes,  Miss :  waiting  at  the  house." 

"  What  a  waste  of  labour."  She  sighed  bitterly. 
"  The  unhappy  Fanny,  I  suppose.  See  it's  not  put 
on,  will  you^  We  are  not  leaving  town  at  present. 
We  are  detained." 

Joliffe  looked  at  Alice,  who  seemed  to  him  a  sen- 
sible girl.  Alice  telegraphed  that  she  had  tried,  and 
failed. 

"Is  it  a  bad  day  for  the  doctor?  "  asked  Violet, 
having  reflected  for  a  space. 

"  Full  up,  Miss.  He's  doing  Mr.  Forrest's  work 
at  the  hospital  this  week  as  well." 

"  The  atrocious  poacher, —  I  know  he  is.  Is  he  at 
home  to-night?  " 

The  chauffeur  shook  his  head.  "  Dinner  and  meet- 
ing at  the  Club.  Both  the  cars  in  use,  since  Mrs. 
Ashwin  goes  down  so  late.  I've  been  wondering, 
Miss  Violet,  how  you  will  get  back." 

"  I  was  also  wondering,"  said  Violet.  "  But  I 
pvcijtd  for  inspiration,  and  it  came.  A  passing  omni- 
bus,—  at  my  own  time.  Liberty  to  miss  one,  if  I 
choose,  and  take  the  next.  Infinitely  preferable,  I 
assure  you." 


LENNOXES  243 

Joliffe  shook  his  head  at  her,  reproving.  "  You'll 
be  back  to  dinner,  Miss?  " 

'^  No, —  tell  Mason.  I  shall  stay  overtime  with 
Miss  Eccles,  and  get  done."  She  smiled  sweetly  at 
Joliffe,  who  therewith  gave  her  up.  She  was  a 
singularly  obstinate  young  lady:  and  to-day  she  was 
singularly  pale. 

"  I  could  get  that  window  open,  if  you  liked,"  he 
said,  gazing  thoughtfully  upward  at  the  skylight, 
through  which  the  concentrated  glare  of  an  August 
noon  was  pouring  down.  "  It  might  make  a  bit  of 
noise." 

"  Good  heavens,  what  does  the  noise  matter  *?  " 
she  cried.  "  Air  is  what  I  want."  Both  her  hands 
were  across  her  eyes  in  an  instant,  at  this  offer  of 
real  service. 

The  chauffeur  tugged  the  window  open ;  and  then, 
looking  round  the  room  once  with  a  cautious  eye, 
guardedly  uncritical,  since  Miss  Violet  had  chosen 
it,  departed  down  the  stairs. 

"  Elle  refuse?  "  said  the  Marquis,  with  a  despair- 
ing gesture. 

"  Refuses,  sir,"  said  Joliffe.  "  Nothing  further, 
sir*?  "    They  drove  off. 

"How  is  the  interior,  where  Mademoiselle  in- 
habits*? "  said  de  FervoUes  curiously. 

"  Very  nice,  sir,"  said  Joliffe.    "  Nice  little  place." 

"She  works  there*?"  said  the  Marquis;  for  Eve- 


244  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

leen  had  left  him  in  complete  darkness  as  to  Violet's 
daily  habits. 

"  Presumably,  sir,"  said  Joliffe,  very  grave.  He 
seemed  to  be  interested  in  the  trafBc  on  the  bridge. 

"  Ladies  —  young  ladies  —  do  this  with  you^  " 

"  Very  frequently,  sir.  A  friend  of  Miss  Ashwin's, 
Lady  Joan  Bering,  does  bookbinding  in  the  season 
in  St.  Martin's  Lane.  I  may  say,  sir,  it  is  freely 
done." 

"  Freely,"  murmured  the  Marquis.  "  She  is  alone 
there, —  no  company  *?  Aha,  this  is  better, —  women, 
of  course.  And  at  nights  she  returns  to  her  parents, 
—  to  the  nest.  Strange,  an  only  child."  He 
mused.  "  She  has  not  broken  with  her  mother? 
Quarrelled'?  " 

"  Certainly  not,  sir,"  said  Joliffe,  indignant  at  the 
implied  scandal  in  his  family.  "  Mrs.  Ashwin 
thought  Miss  Violet  might  change  her  mind,  conse- 
quent upon  a  special  message  from  his  lordship. 
That  is  all." 

"  Aha !  "  said  the  Marquis.  "  His  lordship, — 
what  age*?  '* 

"  Eighty-one,  sir,"  said  Joliffe  impassively,  and 
the  conversation  closed.  The  Marquis  had  criticised 
the  car  on  the  way  down;  and  in  any  case,  Joliffe 
had  no  taste  for  Frenchmen. 


IX 

A  STUDIO  INCIDENT 

The  embassy  had  a  result,  however,  somewhat  later 
in  the  day;  for  Joliffe,  righteously  or  not,  managed 
to  get  a  few  words  through  to  headquarters.  Know- 
ing his  master,  he  judged  that  would  be  sufficient. 
Then  he  went  down  to  Bering  with  his  mind  at  rest. 

At  half-past  seven,  his  first  leisure,  having  dressed 
for  dinner  to  be  on  the  safe  side,  Claude  shot  down 
to  Battersea  in  the  sm.aller  car,  and,  leaving  the 
hired  driver  in  charge,  mounted  the  stairs  two  steps 
at  once.  He  had  been  there  once  before,  so  he  hesi- 
tated neither  as  to  the  house,  nor  floor,  nor  door. 
Before  he  knocked  at  the  door,  he  heard  lively  chat- 
tering and  laughter  within,  sufficient  to  reassure  his 
accumulated  anxiety;  and  entering,  he  discovered  an 
excited  group  of  young  people. 

There  was  a  cry  of  protest  at  his  own  appearance, 
and  he  stopped  halfway  across  the  room,  lifting  the 
flimsy  curtain  with  one  hand.  It  was  evidently,  by 
his  attitude,  a  highly  dramatic  moment  in  some- 
bodj^^s  career. 

"  Oh,  this  is  too  much !  "  cried  Violet  in  indigna- 


246  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

tion.  "  Caitiffs  —  knaves  —  they  have  betrayed  me. 
Silence  now,  Charles, —  Alice, —  no  word,  if  you 
love  me." 

They  did  love  her,  apparently,  for,  though  Alice 
had  been  scolding  and  Charles  talking  nonsense 
simultaneously,  silence  instantly  succeeded. 

Dr.  Ash  win  took  in  the  scene.  His  daughter,  com- 
pletely colourless,  but  much  the  most  collected  mem- 
ber of  the  party,  lay  upon  the  faded  little  couch 
near  the  window,  which  was  opened  widely,  to 
admit  all  the  air  possible  on  an  almost  breathless 
evening.  Miss  Eccles,  in  undress, —  for  her  blouse 
was  tossed  on  the  floor, —  dishevelled  and  wonderful 
to  behold,  was  kneeling  by  her,  one  arm  still  passed 
about  her  anxiously.  Charles  Shovell, —  of  all  im- 
pertinent interlopers, —  clothed  in  flannels,  was  erect 
beyond  them,  with  one  knee  in  a  chair,  and  his 
hands  on  the  back  of  it,  apparently  watching  Violet 
intently.  Not  that  there  was  anything  remarkable 
in  that:  it  was  obviously  the  considerate  thing  to 
do,  since  no  gentleman  would  wish  to  look  twice  at 
Miss  Eccles'  bare  arms.  He  was  flushed  and  smil- 
ing, but  the  smile  had  a  slightly  dazed  quality,  re- 
markable in  a  hero,  as  though  in  the  recent  dramatic 
incident,  the  worst  shock  had  been  his. 

And  that  indeed  was  the  fact.  He  had  come  up 
to  town  for  a  cricket  match;  and  having  spent  the 
day  merrily  with  friends,   was  returning  at  ease. 


LENNOXES  247 

Being  Charles,  he  missed  the  train  he  had  wanted  at 
Victoria,  and  saw,  during  the  interval  while  he 
kicked  his  heels  about  the  station,  a  train  for  Bat- 
tersea  departing.  He  thought  there  could  be  but  one 
chance  in  ten  that  Violet  had  not  already  returned 
home,  but  that  one  chance  was  worth  taki-^g.  He 
would  call,  and  if  he  could  summon  courage  for 
it,  take  her  out  to  dinner.  He  wished  he  was  dressed, 
but  one  cannot  hope  in  life  for  everything.  (He 
had  belonged  at  Cambridge  to  a  very  distinguished 
set,  who  wore  their  worst  clothes  in  good  company 
on  principle.)  He  thought  of  calling  on  Brading 
and  borrowing  some  clothes,  but  as  his  father  was 
said  to  be  dying,  the  proceeding  might  not  be  timely. 
He  made  lively  and  complicated  intrigues  for  a 
night's  amusement  during  the  short  journey,  his 
spirits  rising  all  the  time.  He  was  behaving  exactly 
like  a  man  about  town,  and  he  would  mention  the 
business  with  excessive  carelessness  to  the  world  at 
Glasswell  the  next  morning. 

As  things  turned  out,  he  mentioned  nothing  what- 
ever to  anybody;  all  such  opportunity  was  denied 
him.  It  was  all  puzzling  and  annoying  in  the  ex- 
treme, and  a  simple  proceeding  on  Violet's  part, 
feminine  certainly,  but  nevertheless  ill-considered, 
turned  all  his  plans  topsy-turv)^  and  left  him  help- 
less and  adrift. 

Of  course,  everyone  knows  girls  faint.    If  one  has 


248  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

the  fortune  never  to  have  seen  it  occur  in  life,  all  the 
best  authors  have  long  since  given  them  away.  It  is 
not  unheard-of  for  fellows  to  faint,  if  you  come  to 
that,  at  school,  during  a  particularly  long  chapel, 
after  a  particularly  heavy  meal.  But  that  is  differ- 
ent. Fellows  want  kicking  for  being  such  a  nuisance, 
and  startling  their  neighbours, —  and  one  cannot 
exactly  regard  women's  fainting  like  that.  They 
are  hardly  in  the  same  category.    Yet 

It  is  to  be  feared  Charles  regarded  Violet's  faint- 
ing, at  this  particular  juncture,  as  a  nuisance.  We 
make  his  apologies.  There  is  really  much  to  be 
presented  in  his  excuse,  for  he  had  been  frightened, 
and  that  invariably  produces  a  reaction.  He  was 
coming  easily  up  the  stairs,  in  the  cheerful  certainty, 
on  the  evidence  of  a  small  girl  he  had  encountered 
below,  that  Miss  Ashwin  was  at  home.  Arriving  at 
the  upper  landing,  he  was  just  in  time  to  hear  a 
woman's  cry  of  fright, —  a  tone  that  made  him  start 
in  sympathy, —  a  crash  of  falling  scissors  and  pins, — 
that  most  unequalled  noise, —  and  then  immediately 
afterwards,  a  sharp  call  for  help.  Neither  of  the 
voices  were  Violet's,  which  made  the  hero  feel  more 
awkward.  He  moved  his  legs  after  a  moment  and 
went  forward,  picturing  every  possible  catastrophe, 
from  suicide  to  spiders. 

When  he  got  inside  the  room,  and  past  the  cur- 
tain, he  found  confusion :  pins,  utensils,  drapery,  all 


LENNOXES  249 

tossed  about.  A  tall  girl  he  presumed  to  be  Miss 
Eccles,  in  barbarian  garb  of  coloured  silk,  was  ap- 
parently carrying  Violet,  who  was  apparently  dead. 
This  is  quite  sufficiently  disturbing,  as  a  spectacle, 
to  the  ideas;  and  a  man  may  be  allowed  to  stare  a 
minute,  without  being  made  the  object  of  violent 
recrimination  on  the  living  lady's  part.  As  Charles 
contended  later  to  Violet,  he  did  everything  he  was 
told  to  do;  and  if  he  did  bring  cold  cocoa  in  a  jug 
instead  of  water,  Miss  Eccles  need  not  have  been  so 
hasty  in  her  language  about  it,  because  the  jugs 
were  both  white,  and  absolutely  identical  in  shape. 
He  picked  up  a  large  quantity  of  pins  for  her  while 
she  was  tending  Violet,  and  he  picked  them  very 
badly,  for  his  hands  were  shaking;  and  when  she 
shook  off  her  magnificent  robe,  and  threw  it  at  him, 
he  pricked  his  fingers  with  more  pins  stuck  in  the 
fabric,  trying  to  fold  it  up.  Finally,  to  his  relief, 
Miss  Eccles  snatched  it  again,  and  make  a  bolster  of 
it  in  two  minutes  for  Violet's  head. 

"  Won't  it  be  creased*?  "  said  Charles  thought- 
fully. 

"  It's  hers,  at  least  her  mother's,"  snapped  Miss 
Eccles,  "  and  anyhow,  it  will  serve  her  right." 

Violet's  first  faint  words  were  to  direct  Alice  not 
to  snub  poor  Charles;  and  he  thought  it  was  high 
time  indeed  that  somebody  came  to  his  rescue.  Find- 
ing her  living  eyes  on  him,  just  as  they  had  always 


250  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

been,  nonsense  sprang  instantly  to  his  tongue  in 
self-defence.  But  it  was  random  nonsense, —  night- 
marish, rather.    What  he  said  was 

"  Then  it  is  not  for  a  hundred  years." 

"  Spindles? "  said  Violet,  and  her  white  lips 
quivered  into  a  smile.  "  Charles,  how  nice  you  are," 
she  murmured. 

Charles  was  relieved  to  hear  he  was  nice;  he  did 
not  feel  so.  He  felt,  somehow,  that  at  least  a 
hundred  years  had  elapsed  since  he  saw  her  last. 

"  You  haven't  even  been  introduced,"  said  Violet. 
"  Miss  Eccles  —  Mr.  Shovell.  A  pin  is  running  into 
me,  darling,  if  you  would  be  so  good.  Ask  him 
immediately  if  the  Gentlemen  won,  and  if  so,  how 
much." 

"  I  shan't  do  anything  of  the  sort,"  snapped  Alice. 

"  The  Players  won,"  said  Charles  huskily. 

"  Miss  Eccles  will  be  delighted,"  said  Violet. 
"  Please  tell  her  all  about  it  while  I  wash  my  face." 

Thus  matters  were  put  upon  a  rather  happier 
footing,  and  pretty  soon  all  three  were  talking  busily. 
It  was  exquisite  relief,  after  all,  that  Violet,  having 
been  dead,  could  come  to  life  so  quickly,  and  speak 
in  such  a  life-like  manner.  Also,  it  was  character- 
istic of  her  cunning,  according  to  Miss  Eccles,  that 
she  should  drop  behind  Miss  Eccles'  back,  and  so 
out  of  her  reach,  during  the  arrangement  of  a 
shoulder-seam. 


LENNOXES  251 

"  The  detestable  thing  is  crooked  now,"  murmured 
Violet.  "  We  had  better  commence  with  that,  Alice, 
to-morrow." 

"  I  regard  it  as  my  business  to  dictate,"  scolded 
Miss  Eccles,  "  what  we  commence  with,  and  other- 
wise.   And  that's  not  one  of  your  words,  anyhow." 

"  She  is  such  a  stickler,"  said  Violet.  "  She  uses 
two  dialects  at  least,  Charles,  but  she  never  allows 
me  on  her  ground.  Everybody  trespasses  occasion- 
ally, tell  her  that." 

"  They  seem  really  to  be  friends,"  thought 
Charles,  still  dazed;  and  he  wished  with  strong  re- 
sentment that  Miss  Eccles  would  put  on  her  blouse. 
But  she  seemed  to  have  forgotten  all  about  it,  and 
if  Violet  did  not,  he  could  not  remind  her.  Of  course 
she  was  agitated,  and  of  course  it  was  very  hot  in 
the  room;  and  of  course  Mr.  Shovell  was  dressed 
in  faded  flannel  and  not  in  cloth;  but  that  was  no 
excuse  for  her  regarding  him,  as  she  evidently  did, 
as  a  nonentity.  Coming  up  to  town  he  had  been 
rather  proud  of  that  ancient  warrior,  his  College 
blazer.  Men  had  looked  at  him  with  respect, —  but 
girls  are  so  absurd.  It  was  true,  this  girl's  bare  white 
wrists  and  arms  were  most  beautiful  and  distracting: 
yet  in  strength  sufficient,  as  he  had  seen,  to  carry 
Violet  half  across  the  room. 

He  began  to  wonder,  while  he  chattered  nonsense 
wildly  and  persistently,  if  he  had  not  better  escape, 


252  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

get  out  of  the  toils,  and  leave  them  together,  as 
women  on  these  occasions  had  better  always  be  left. 
He  also  thought  of  going  for  a  doctor,  a  thing  which 
is  often  done,  and  which  seemed  to  have  occurred 
to  neither. 

Presently  he  summoned  courage  and  proposed  this 
step. 

"Good  gracious,"  said  Violet,  "what  an  idea! 
Can't  you  see  I  am  progressing  most  favourably,  and 
no  earthly  doctor  would " 

About  that  point  there  were  quick  steps  without, 
she  stopped,  the  door  opened,  and  the  earthly  doctor 
appeared  as  already  described,  in  a  white  shirt  front, 
with  a  thick  bar  on  his  brow. 

"  You  are  at  dinner  at  the  Athenaum,"  Violet 
addressed  the  apparition  bitterly.  "  You  can't  pos- 
sibly be  here.    I  had  it  on  the  best  authority." 

"  Whose  ^"  said  Claude. 

"  Somebody  who  never  makes  slips,"  said  Violet, 
"  because  he  would  be  dismissed  instantly  if  he  did." 

"  He  seems  to  be  fairly  accurate,"  said  Claude. 
He  dropped  the  drapery  he  was  holding,  and  ad- 
vanced to  the  couch.  Putting  his  hand  across  her 
head  to  the  further  side,  he  swept  back  the  drooping 
curtain  of  her  hair,  and  touched  the  bruise  she  had 
been  concealing. 

"  It  does  not  hurt  the  least,  darling,"  said  Violet, 
becoming  soft  and  appealing.     "  Let  it  pass.     You 


LENNOXES  253 

know  Miss  Eccles,  don't  you^  He's  only  a  medical 
man,  Alice,  dear."  For  Miss  Eccles,  with  a  lovely 
colour  in  her  face,  had  seized  her  black  silk  bodice, 
and  was  donning  it  hastily.  Charles,  seeing  the  pro- 
ceeding, laid  it  all  to  the  glamour  of  the  other  man's 
immaculate  tailoring,  and  felt  bitter  and  small. 

"  Fasten  it  for  her,"  said  Violet, —  to  her  father 
apparently.  "  It  fastens  behind, —  idiotic  custom, 
isn't  it?  I  ought  to  tell  you,  perhaps,  I  happened 
to  be  trying  something  on  Miss  Eccles  lately,  when 
she  hit  me  with  her  elbow,  rather  hard.  She  is 
rather  jerky  and  short-tempered  to-day, —  the  heat. 
She  has  apologised,  and  I  pass  it  over.  Since  then, 
I  have  been  resting,  talking  to  Mr.  Shovel  1,  who 
called.  The  canons  of  society  demand  that  you 
should  take  his  hand.  Father,  and  let  go  at  once  of 
mine." 

Dr.  Ashwin  did  neither  thing.  While  he  held  her 
hand  in  a  certain  fashion,  far  from  what  the  canons 
require,  he  seemed  to  be  observing  the  room.  Violet 
had  very  little  hope  she  had  deceived  him,  but  she 
kept  a  gallant  front. 

"  Hot,  isn't  it?  "  she  said  in  the  languid  society 
manner.  "  I  hope  you  have  not  been  stupidly  over- 
doing it,  Father.    You  look  pale." 

"  What  have  you  eaten  to-day?  "  he  asked.  "  I 
mean,  biscuits  and  cocoa  exclusively,  or  something 
more  substantial?  " 


254  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

"  You  cannot  possibly  see  inside  that  jug,"  said 
Violet,  annoyed,  "  so  don't  pretend  to.  Your  eyes 
have  the  same  natural  limitations  as  Mr.  Weller's. 
Besides,  Charles,  who  is  close  to  it,  will  tell  you  it  is 
soup.  We  did  not  go  out  to  lunch  to-day,  owing  to 
pressure.  I  sent  a  message  to  Mother  about  that, — 
perhaps  it  did  not  come  your  way.  I  was  about  to 
ask  Charles,  there,  to  take  me  out  to  dine." 

"  Were  you"?  "  said  Charles,  rather  startled.  Then 
he  felt  foolish  for  being  surprised, —  because  he 
had  meant,  of  course,  to  take  her  out  to  dinner,  once. 

"  Of  course.  I  thought  my  responsibilities  were 
safe  at  the  Athenseum.  As  it  is,  I  supposed  they 
have  scratched  the  engagement,  suddenly;  and  what 
I  am  to  do  with  the  present  one, —  goodness  knows." 

"  You'll  go  home  with  your  Papa,"  said  Miss 
Eccles,  in  her  full,  leisured  tone,  "  like  a  good  girl; 
and  have  your  dinner  in  company." 

"  That  shows  your  ignorance  of  our  ways,  dear," 
said  Violet.  "  The  kitchenmaid  is  out, —  Fanny  is 
at  a  cinematograph, —  Mason  likewise.  It  is  more 
than  probable  there  is  nothing  eatable  in  the  house : 
because,  owing  to  his  bewildering  extravagance,  I 
have  prescribed  economy  on  all  of  them.  Really, 
Father,  on  thinking  it  over,  it  strikes  me  you  could 
not  do  better  than  to  have  a  little  cocoa  here  com- 
fortably with  us." 

"  Doesn't  she  want  slapping?  "  said  Alice,  with 


LENNOXES  255 

the  same  cordial  serenity  to  Dr.  Ashwin.  She  at 
least  was  happy  and  her  easy  self  again.  He  nodded 
to  the  question,  but  did  not  smile ;  indeed,  he  looked 
most  drawn  and  anxious,  far  more  than  the  occasion 
demanded. 

"  If  you'll  stand  on  your  two  feet,  Pussy,"  he  said, 
"  I'll  do  the  rest  for  you,  dinner  and  all." 

"  Cook  it,  you  mean?  Can  you?  Oh  do,  darling. 
Mason  would  be  so  annoyed."  She  was  laughing 
as  she  rose,  but  obviously  leaning  on  him.  "  No,  I 
won't  be  carried:  I  refuse  point-blank.  .  .  . 
Listen,  Charles."  She  turned  to  him  with  a  certain 
earnestness,  her  grey  eyes  very  steady,  still  clinging 
to  her  father's  arm.  He  heard  her  speech,  and  the 
sweet  little  dry  familiar  voice,  in  a  dream. 

"  You  are  my  two  best  friends,  and  have  assisted 
me  in  extremity.  Therefore  you  know  one  another 
well.  I  cannot  go  out  to  dinner,  owing  to  this  im- 
pediment,"—  she  squeezed  the  supporting  arm, — 
"  Therefore  I  depute  you  to  take  Alice.  I  depend  on 
you  utterly,  Charles.  She  is  young  and  unused  to 
the  ways  of  London.  Give  her  a  nice  dinner  at  a 
good  place,  tell  her  all  your  silliest  stories,  and 
manage  her  adroitly  if  she  tries  to  pay."  At  this 
point,  seeing  Mr.  Shovell's  face,  she  broke  into 
laughter.  *' Charles,"  she  cried,  "you  are  in  the 
cradle!  Act  better,  at  least,  for  Heaven's  sake." 
She    dropped    her   brow    an    instant    against    Dr. 


256  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

Ashwin's  sleeve.  "  I  frightened  him,"  she  mur- 
mured, to  explain. 

"  Come  along,"  said  Claude  with  decision.  "  Give 
Miss  Eccles  the  word  to  be  managed,  that  is  the 
simplest  thing." 

"  Between  you  and  me,  Dr.  Ashwin,  I  am,  and 
always,"  said  Alice.  "  But  I've  got  to  go  home, 
deary :  word  of  honour  I  have.  Mum  will  be  fussing 
dreadfully." 

"  I  charge  you,  Charles,  by  all  you  hold  most 
dear,"  said  Violet  solemnly.  "  She  has  naturally  an 
excellent  appetite,  and  has  starved  all  day.  Her 
mother  is  a  polite  convention, —  rather  overworked. 
Cocoa-soup  is  not  really  sustaining.  Well,  Father, 
I  have  moved  nine  steps;  I  am  practising,  and  you 
must  give  me  time.  A  little  advice  in  his  ear  about 
restaurants  would  be  more  to  the  purpose  than  pinch- 
ing me." 

Having  so  directed  him,  she  leant  to  Alice  a 
moment:  obviously  pleading,  speaking  low. 

"  It's  not  a  thing  I  ever  do,"  said  Alice  wavering. 

"  I  know  you  don't,"  pleaded  Violet.  "  But  we 
do,  so  allow  for  us.  Give  in  to  our  rowdy  habits, 
darling,  just  for  once.  A  dinner  once  in  a  way  is 
nothing.  Even  his  clerical  relations  will  not  throw 
it  up  against  you,  for  that  I  give  you  my  word.  And 
he's  charming,  really,  if  you  don't  sit  on  him  too 
heavily.     Of  course "  she  whisked  the  words 


LENNOXES  257 

out  of  Alice's  mouth, —  "  Mr.  Shovell  is  my  friend. 
But  our  sort  of  friendship  can  stand  it.    There  I  " 

"  Well,"  said  Alice,  on  a  yielding  breath. 
"  You've  done  me  this  time.  I  suppose  I'll  have  to. 
So  long  as  he  doesn't  pay." 

"  Oh,  good  gracious!  "  said  Violet,  letting  out  a 
flash.  "  Here, —  where  are  you?  "  She  turned, 
seized  her  father  in  a  managing  fashion  by  the  coat, 
and  dived  adroitly  into  an  inner  pocket.  "Ten, 
fourteen,  sixteen,  seventeen-and-six,"  counted  Violet, 
"  Will  that  be  enough  for  two?  Which  restaurant 
have  you  told  him'?  "  She  shook  the  coat  imperi- 
ously. "  And  where,  if  it's  a  smart  one,  do  you  keep 
your  gold?  " 

"  That  will  suffice,"  he  replied.  "  It's  only  sus- 
taining to  outraged  nature,  not  smart  the  least." 

Violet  poured  the  silver  into  Charles'  hand.  "  My 
commission,"  she  sweetly  observed.  "  Keep  some- 
thing out  of  it  for  yourself.  Don't  stay  very  late, 
because  of  her  mother, —  and  take  her  home."  Then 
she  looked  at  his  eyes.  "  Charles,  you're  not  cross, 
are  you?"  she  said,  low  and  swiftly.  She  thought 
in  a  practised  flash  of  every  probable  scruple  such 
a  boy  could  have.  "  Is  it  the  blazer?  Alice  will 
not  mind  —  she's  not  dressed." 

"It's  not  the  blazer,"  he  answered,  gruffly  rather, 
pocketed  the  money  without  counting  it,  and  let 
her  go  without  looking  at  her  again. 


258  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

He  felt  singularly  guilty  and  miserable  as  he  stood 
there,  hearing  her  light  footsteps  retreat  down  the 
stairs;  and  it  made  things  little  better  when  Miss 
Eccles  turned  to  him  triumphantly. 

"  There's  not  her  equal  in  London,"  she  said, 
with  unnecessary  emphasis.  "  You  are  in  luck,  Mr. 
Shovell,  if  I  may  be  allowed  to  say  so  without 
offence." 

This,  by  Miss  Eccles'  standards,  was  no  more  than 
a  courteous  formula,  when  the  friend  of  another 
was  proffering  attentions,  but  Charles  received  it  ill, 
and  had  no  answer.  The  world  was  turning  over 
for  poor  Charles.  He  only  knew,  for  the  first  time 
Alice  turned  her  lovely  long  eyes  upon  him:  and 
for  the  first  and  last  time,  as  it  seemed,  on  earth, — 
since  heaven  was  near, —  he  had  the  sweet  shock  of 
her  smile. 


GROWING    PAINS 

Charles  seldom,  if  ever,  spent  a  more  imhappy 
evening.  So  unversed  he  was  in  life,  though  he  had 
sung  and  jested  of  love  perpetually  throughout  his 
Cambridge  day,  that  he  hardly  knew  what  was 
happening  to  him.  He  only  knew  he  was  apparently 
booked  in  advance  by  a  devil  the  like  of  which  he 
had  never  met  or  guessed,  to  behave  idiotically. 
We  shall  have  lost  more  time  than  we  think,  in  the 
conscientious  compilation  of  this  history,  if  we  have 
not  suggested  successfully  that  Charles  was  fond  of 
himself.  The  first  addition  to  this  knowledge  he 
had  personally  and  painfully  to  make  was,  that  he 
had  never  really  been  fond  of  anybody  else. 

This  was  due  to  nature  partly,  and  partly  to  ill- 
fortune.  He  had  begun  life  by  fearing  and  hating 
his  father, —  a  shadow  almost  too  far  back  to  recol- 
lect, but  sufficient  to  leave  a  taint  of  suspiciousness 
behind  it.  For  quite  a  considerable  period  he  thought 
he  loved  his  mother,  and  only  awoke  to  the  fact 
that  he  did  not,  when  he  began  his  quest  for  the 
romantic  life  at  the  age  of  seventeen.    His  mother, 


26o  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

in  sheer  anxiety  lest  he  should  follow  in  his  father's 
steps,  dragooned  him  rather;  and,  as  she  spoiled 
him  in  her  fashion  simultaneously  as  mothers  will, 
he  never  saw  her  sacrifices.  He  was  not  really  far 
removed  from  Alice  in  situation,  the  difference  being 
that  his  weakness  was  congenital,  and  all  he  knew 
of  virtue  and  strength  of  mind  he  owed  to  the  ma- 
ternal teaching.  The  contrast  between  boy  and 
girl  had  been  completed  by  the  inexorable  moulder, 
life.  Owing  to  the  singular  education  of  our  gentler 
youth,  Charles  had  never,  at  the  age  of  twenty-three, 
had  to  shift  for  himself.  Tutors,  advisers,  relatives 
and  friends  had  shifted  for  him,  and  he  had  sat 
quietly,  chattered  other  men's  philosophy,  and  criti- 
cised their  proceedings.  It  needs  but  to  be  added 
that  he  had  excelled  at  certain  sports,  and  that  a  ring 
of  cleverer  men  had  admired  him  for  his  turn  of 
mind.  It  may  be  sufficient  commentary  on  these 
methods  to  mention  that  Alice,  three  years  younger, 
was  ten  years  ahead  of  him  at  least,  at  this  time, 
upon  the  paths  of  life. 

He  learnt  his  lesson  that  evening  at  her  hands; 
though  she  was  rather  silent,  listening  to  what  he 
had  to  say  with  ready,  kindness,  and  looking  about 
her,  with  innocent  wonder,  at  unaccustomed  things. 
It  was  her  beauty  taught  him,  not  her  eloquence. 
It  struck  Charles  almost  with  horror,  that  she  would 


LENNOXES  261 

not  and  could  not  care  for  him,  he  was  so  utterly 
beneath  her.  It  needs  but  to  mention  this  to  show 
how  she  had  carried  on  sight  the  intrenchments  of 
his  vanity  and  self-love.  They  were  not  very  pro- 
found intrenchments  really,  it  was  only  that  the 
forces  of  the  man's  soul  within  were  ungrown  to 
proffer  better  defence.  The  girl  would  have  pitied 
instantly,  had  she  suspected  half  his  misery;  for 
Alice  knew  where  the  frontier  between  comedy  and 
tragedy  lay, —  that  had  been  one  of  her  hardest 
lessons;  and  she  would  not  have  chaffed  or  dallied 
in  a  calamity  such  as  this. 

But,  as  it  happened,  she  noticed  nothing  that 
night,  or  very  little.  It  was  absolutely  the  first 
chance  of  her  life  of  seeing  a  little  of  the  world  of 
pleasure,  and  she  was  as  delighted  as  a  child,  though 
as  acute  as  a  woman  in  her  commentary.  Claude 
Ashwin  had  directed  them  to  one  of  the  go-between 
eating-places  north  of  the  Strand,  foreign  in  name, 
but  borrowing  in  nature  some  excellent  hints  from 
the  old  London  traditions.  It  was  convenient  to 
the  theatres,  and  had  been  discovered  temporarily 
by  a  certain  immutably  upper  set,  who  piqued  them- 
selves on  following  the  best,  and  being  followed 
themselves  by  fashion  as  fashion  would.  Claude 
himself  had  been  taken  there  by  Lucas  Warden, 
and  it  had  amused  him  adequately,  without  preju- 


262  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

dice  to  feeding  him  in  perfection ;  for  it  was  not  yet 
sufficiently  "  in  the  swim "  for  the  service  or  the 
cookery  to  grow  careless. 

Lucas  Warden  was  dining  there  to-night,  and 
Alice  noticed  him  presently.  He  had  already  noticed 
Alice,  but  like  the  prudent  old  hand  he  was,  had 
made  no  sign. 

"  Why,"  she  said  to  Charles,  innocently  pleased  to 
find  a  face  she  knew,  "  there  is  old  Mr.  Warden, 
Miss  Ashwin's  friend.  She  brought  him  to  our  place 
once  to  see  Miss  Lennox.  I  wonder  if  I  ought  to 
recognise  him^  " 

"  No,"  said  Charles. 

"  Don't  you  think  so'?    Do  tell  me  why." 

"  Because  you're  dining  with  me,  and  he's  alone," 
said  Charles  haughtily,  as  though  popular  canons 
of  good  taste  could  be  left  to  explain  the  rest.  He 
was  trying  this  manner  on  Alice  recklessly  to  see  if 
it  was  of  any  use. 

"  Oh,"  said  Alice,  slightly  mischievous.  "  But 
Miss  Ashwin  is  here  in  the  spirit,  isn't  she?  We 
can  pretend  she  is,  anyhow.    That  makes  four." 

"  Not  at  all,"  said  Charles.  "  You  must  have  mis- 
taken her,  really.  Besides,"  he  added,  spurring 
himself  furiously,  "  no  one  could  tackle  such  a  feed 
as  this  in  the  spirit,  possibly.    It  can't  be  done." 

"  I'm  eating  most  of  it,"  Miss  Eccles  observed. 
"  For  all  you've  done,  you  could  keep  a  spirit  com- 


LENNOXES  263 

pany."     She  added,  pleased  with  her  idea, —  "  Per- 
haps you  are." 

"  What  do  you  mean'?  "  said  Charles. 

"  Though  lost  to  sight,"  said  Alice,  "  to  memory 
dear."  She  was  again  using  one  of  the  complimen- 
tary formulas  of  "  friendship."  Charles  was,  or  at 
least  must  be  supposed  to  be,  thinking  of  Violet. 
Boy  as  he  was,  he  coloured  with  profound  irritation. 

"  Miss  Eccles "  he  began. 

"  Well^  "  said  Alice  in  the  pause.  "  Don't  you 
like  teasing?  Never  mind.  Some  do  and  some  don't 
according  to  my  experience.  Let's  talk  of  some- 
thing else." 

"  I  wish  I  could,"  said  the  unfortunate  Charles. 
He  meant,  of  course,  he  wished  he  could  talk  of  the 
thing  that  was  battering  at  his  soul's  gates  to  be 
spoken.  Alice  laughed  sweetly  across  the  table,  prov- 
ing that  she  took  his  meaning  the  other  way;  that 
she  thought  it  quite  natural  her  charming  little  friend 
should  hold  possession  of  his  thoughts  and  conversa- 
tion,—  to  the  exclusion  even  of  politeness. 

So  they  proceeded,  misunderstanding  one  another, 
until  a  certain  point  when,  spurred  by  wine,  Charles 
said  something  furious,  which  Alice  thought  "  com- 
mon," and  she  stared  at  him  a  second,  doubt  grow- 
ing visible  in  her  eyes.  Even  then,  she  seized  instant 
hold,  with  her  sad  experience,  of  the  wine's  agency 
to  explain  it;  she  did  not  blame  him  seriously,  and, 


264  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

at  the  worst,  only  suspected  he  was  "  light."  The 
"light"  man  she  had  met  and  known;  all  her 
mother's  prudish  protection  had  not  been  able  to 
keep  him  off  her.  No  girl  so  indiscreetly  beautiful 
as  Alice  Eccles  could  move  daily  about  London,  and 
not  be  accosted  at  times.  She  had  fought  her  own 
battles,  and  her  mother  had  never  known.  Except 
in  that  somewhat  vague  formula  that  "  men  do  beat 
all,"  she  had  never  once  mentioned  her  encounters, 
far  less  boasted  of  them,  even  to  Violet.  Only, 
Charles  saw  what  she  knew,  saw  that  it  exceeded 
even  his  own  earth-shaking  discoveries  that  night, 
and  he  raged.  She  suspected  him  of  infidelity, —  of 
vulgarity,  which  is  worse.  She  was  ready  armed, 
gallant,  guarding  the  path  up  which  he  strove  to 
step,  whose  entrance  he  could  barely  find.  This  is 
a  form  of  innocence  upon  which  men  do  not  count, 
—  this  steadfast,  smiling  pessimism  of  youth.  But 
it  is  an  attitude  for  which  they  are  responsible,  all 
the  same. 

Then  Mr.  Warden,  passing  to  the  door,  at  a  barely 
visible  sign  from  Alice's  head,  came  across  to  them; 
and  therewith  Charles'  discomfiture  was  complete. 
She  was  charming,  though  serious,  with  the  elderly 
man  of  the  world,  dealing  at  once  with  their  common 
subject,  Violet.  Withal  she  was  courteous  as  the 
highest  lady  could  have  been.  She  mentioned 
Charles  by  name,   and  the  match   to  explain  his 


LENNOXES  265 

clothes.  (It  did  not,  but  Alice  in  her  ignorance  of 
matches  evidently  thought  it  did.)  To  explain  his 
presence  with  her,  she  said  they  were  both  "  on  the 
loose,"  and  that  Dr.  Ashwin  had  sent  them  there. 
Mr.  Warden's  kindly  gaze  found  Charles  a  school- 
boy, and  passed  him  over.  They  were  sitting,  by 
Charles'  choice,  in  a  retired  corner;  but  the  mere 
fact  that  Mr.  Warden  stood  there,  still  and  courtly, 
in  the  unmistakeable  attitude  of  deference  to  woman, 
the  knuckles  of  one  fine  hand  resting  upon  their 
table-edge,  made  five  or  six  other  men  look  round, — 
and  look  again  at  every  covert  chance. 

"  I  don't  like  this,"  said  Alice  after  a  time,  quite 
easily.  "  There's  a  smarter  lot  of  people  coming 
now,  and  I'm  not  dressed  up  to  that  gang.  Nor  is 
Mr.  Shovell,  are  you*?  Besides,  I  ought  to  be  off, 
really  and  truly.    Shall  we  be  getting  out*?  " 

She  looked  at  her  escort,  but  Lucas  Warden  an- 
swered her. 

"  Does  that  dismiss  me?  "  he  said.  "  I  thought, 
as  an  ancient  and  useful  appurtenance,  I  was  being 
encouraged.  I  see  I  was  wrong,  and  you  were  merely 
kind.  Can  I  be  kind,  then,  in  return*?  Can  I  drive 
you  to  any  station,  for  instance'?  " 

"  Dear,  no,"  said  Alice.  "  I'm  all  right.  I  sleep 
inside  the  town,  you  know;  a  tram  goes  straight 
from  the  corner.  It's  Mr.  Shovell  who  has  trains  to 
catch." 


266  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

"  The  coup  de  grdce^''  said  Lucas,  enviably  calm. 
"  Mr.  Shovell,  may  I  drive  you?  We  can  but  con- 
sole one  another." 

Alice  laughed, —  he  heard  her  laugh, —  delighted 
at  the  badinage.  That  was  the  way,  of  course, 
Charles  should  have  spoken,  if  only  he  could  struggle 
from  the  toils  so  unfairly  binding  him,  hand  and  foot 
and  tongue.  Lucas  Warden  did  not  know  her,  had 
manifestly  even  forgotten  her  name,  for  he  avoided 
it;  but  he  played  his  man's  part  with  ease  in  enter- 
taining and  gratifying  a  lovely  girl,  no  matter  what 
the  occasion. 

Nor  did  he  really  give  much  thought  to  it, —  lucky 
dog!  A  passing  remark  on  her  charm  and  friendli- 
ness, after  leaving  her,  seemed  enough  to  dismiss 
her  quite  comfortably  from  his  mind.  He  was  an 
affable  old  party,  this  Warden,  and  was  evidently 
accustomed  to  being  accepted  on  sight  by  younger 
men  as  philosopher  and  friend.  He  ferreted  out 
Charles'  connection  with  the  Ashwins  very  soon, 
remembered  Margery  at  once,  and  insisted,  while 
composing  a  message  for  her,  on  walking  at  Charles' 
side  to  the  corner.  By  some  means  or  other  this 
plan  was  extended,  and  he  came  all  the  way  to  the 
station,  discussing  things  and  persons  who  had  be- 
come as  far  removed  as  planets  behind  driving 
clouds  to  Charles.  They  were  there,  of  course :  they 
glimmered  now  and  then,  but  obscured  and  quite 


LENNOXES  267 

useless  to  him.  In  the  crisis  he  was  in,  he  could 
think  of  nobody.  His  stepfather  alone  might  con- 
ceivably be  of  use,  but  not  yet,  and  not  in  any 
fashion  he  had  the  wit  or  spirit  to  plan  out  to-night. 
Mr.  Gibbs  had  often  loomed  so,  a  distant  rock  to 
the  wrecked  or  panic-stricken,  but  Charles  did  not 
know  that.  He  did  not  want  to  go  to  Glasswell,  he 
shunned  the  place;  and  Violet's  silver,  not  nearly 
exhausted,  was  sufficient  for  a  night  at  a  hotel. 
Two  it  must  be,  indeed,  since  the  morrow  was  Sun- 
day, and  so  not  Alice's  working-day.  He  was  at  a 
stage  of  having  lost  all  scruple  as  to  such  a  use  for 
Violet's  money.  All  possessions,  all  positions,  all 
privileges  in  life  had  for  him  but  one  object,  that 
of  keeping  his  body  as  near  as  possible  to  Alice's. 
Owing  to  the  untimely  intervention  of  the  objection- 
able Warden,  Charles  had  not  been  able  to  get  her 
address.  He  had  been  putting  that  off  to  the  last 
moment,  and  it  was  those  dear  last  moments  that 
Warden  had  snatched  from  him,  and  turned  to  his 
own  purposes  so  competently.  He  could  of  course 
reach  the  address  through  Violet ;  and  while  Warden 
talked  away  at  his  side,  he  was  trying  insanely  to 
invent  how  best  he  should  do  that. 

Meanwhile,  perhaps  ov/ing  to  Alice,  perhaps  to 
the  wine,  his  tongue  was  behaving  with  unusual 
brilliance  and  dexterity,  while  discussing  quite  in- 
essential things.    Mr.  Warden  was,  as  undoubtedly, 


268  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

drawing  him  out.  He  knew  how  to  draw  young 
fellows  out,  and  this  one  suited  him.  Charles  was 
rather  of  his  own  kind,  fastidious  and  desultory,  a 
flaneur  along  the  paths  of  life;  and  Mr.  Warden, 
himself  in  an  optimistic  after-dinner  mood,  thought 
he  had  not  used  his  opportunities  badly.  His  con- 
nection with  the  Ashwins  was  highly  in  his  favour, 
and  he  evidently  had  a  taste  for  literature.  In  addi- 
tion, Charles'  tongue  informed  his  companion  of  his 
set  prejudice  against  the  tutorial  profession  and 
in  that  prejudice  Mr.  Warden  sympathised  most 
heartily.  For  his  own  part,  he  had  in  youth  barely 
escaped  it,  and  only  by  a  lucky  throw,  lost  in  the 
herd  of  young  men  who,  for  want  of  better  prompt- 
ing, are  driven  that  way.  He  began  to  think  out 
other  opportunities  for  such  as  Charles,  and  his 
own  profession  instantly  occurred  to  him.  The  boy 
had  wits,  obviously,  but  not  such  as  are  readily  ex- 
changeable for  gold  and  silver  in  the  mart.  He 
had  taste,  imagination,  a  power  of  expression  which 
—  as  exemplified  to-night  —  was  unusual  at  his  age. 
His  faults  were  those  that  Wardens  most  naturally 
condone,  his  advantages  such  as  they  most  promptly 
perceive.  In  short,  Charles  made  a  conquest,  and 
of  a  very  useful  man. 

Charles'  luck  that  night  had  not  really  deserted 
him,  had  he  known.  But  it  was  like  the  irony  of 
fate  that  he  should  make  his  first  step  towards  ma- 


LENNOXES  269 

terial  prosperity  the  same  night  that  he  lost  all  value 
and  regard  for  it.  It  is  true,  he  had  never  had  much. 
He  was  frantic,  feverish,  and  really  for  the  moment 
he  hated  Warden.  They  had  to  go  into  the  station 
together;  but  there,  fortunately,  the  publisher,  cheery 
to  the  last,  bade  him  an  easy  good  night.  Charles 
threw  a  jest  after  him,  and  made  him  retort  and 
laugh.  Then  he  strolled  to  the  board  that  posted 
trains,  saw  that  one  to  Glasswell  was  still  open  to 
him,  and  looked  swiftly  and  furtively  over  all  the 
strollers  on  the  platform,  to  be  sure  no  acquaintance 
was  among  them.  He  was  in  luck  once  more,  for 
there  was  none. 

So,  with  a  deep  breath,  having  made  certain  that 
Mr.  Warden  had  finally  vanished  from  view,  Mr. 
Shovell  swung  about,  and  made  for  the  doors  of  the 
nearest  hotel.  On  ordinary  occasions  he  might  have 
been  shy,  but  he  had  already  grown  through  that. 
If  he  was  prompted  by  any  idea  at  all  in  the  pro- 
ceeding, it  was  by  the  purely  mechanical  one  of  not 
losing  any  possible  trail,  that  by  any  chance  he 
might  be  holding.  He  was  on  one,  at  least,  of  the 
main  routes  to  Battersea,  and  had  perhaps  two 
chances  out  of  ten  of  intercepting  his  beloved  on  the 
Monday  morning,  as  she  made  her  way  to  her  work. 
For  those  two  chances  anything  might  be  risked; 
so  he  flung  diffidence  to  the  winds,  and  took  a  room 
at  the  hotel.     He  barely  thought  of  his  mother, 


270  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

beyond  purposing  vaguely  to  send  her  a  message 
the  next  day,  to  explain  that  Blading  or  some  friend 
had  detained  him.  That  sort  of  thing  was  easily 
done.  She  would  not  —  or  Charles  imagined  she 
would  not  —  be  anxious.  Charles,  having  known 
his  father  little,  had  never  come  near  to  realising 
the  exact  shade  of  her  anxiety  about  him,  even  if 
he  consciously  interpreted  her  sharpness  as  anxiety 
at  all.  He  could  not  stop  to  think  of  whom  he 
victimised,  or  to  split  hairs  of  honour  and  delicacy, 
at  such  a  moment.  Brading,  he  thought,  might  be 
a  good  card  to  play,  since  owing  to  his  situation 
and  his  father's  danger,  he  was  out  of  court,  so  to 
speak,  and  no  longer  in  evidence  at  Glasswell.  Nor 
could  he  afford  much  feeling  for  poor  Robert,  thus 
tragically  separated  from  his  love, —  those  sympa- 
thetic stirrings  might  come  later,  not  now.  At  the 
point  where  he  stood,  buffeted  b)^  all  the  winds  of 
passion,  he  was  incapable  of  "  nice  feelings  "  at  all. 
So  he  prepared  quite  calmly  to  couple  Brading's 
name,  if  no  better  name  occurred,  to  his  projected  lie. 
It  was  not  till  he  was  actually  in  bed  that  he 
thought  of  the  gardener  Peacock,  and  the  thought 
came  with  something  of  a  shock.  But  it  was  all 
right,  he  told  himself.  Alice  had  scorned  him,  and 
Charles  had  every  proof  of  his  imperturbability  and 
indifference.  He  began  suddenly  to  wish  that  he 
had  gone  to  Glasswell  after  all;  for  if  Violet  was 


LENNOXES  271 

really  right  in  her  surmises, —  and  Violet  was  given 
to  being  right, —  that  fellow  had  the  Eccles'  address. 
The  address  still  haunted  Charles,  his  fixed  idea. 
Why,  if  his  and  Violet's  theory  of  the  flower-stealing 
was  correct,  he  had  only  to  glance  at  the  label  of 
one  of  Peacock's  boxes  I  Alas  I  how  slow  is  the  un- 
practised schemer  to  arrive  at  these  simple  things! 
It  need  hardly  be  added  that  the  unpractised 
schemer,  deep  in  the  maddening  toils  of  a  first  love, 
forgot  the  existence  of  a  London  directory. 


PART    III 
FOREIGN    ADMINISTRATIONS 


I 


THE    DISENTANGLER 

"  It's  a  bargain,  then,"  said  Miss  Ashwin  that  same 
evening,  handing  back  a  little  book.  "  You  relax 
that  absurd  programme,  which  a  Prometheus  would 
know  better  than  to  attempt,  and  go  to  Bering  Park 
like  a  nice  gentleman,  in  a  new  coat.  I  will  go  down 
for  one  week  to  Glasswell,  and  spend  the  time 
profitably " 

"'  I  forbid  you  to  be  profitable."  said  Claude. 

"  Profitably,  in  disentangling  Margery.  Now  you 
needn't  pretend  to  know  what  I  mean  by  that, 
Father,  because  you  don't." 

"  I  wasn't  pretending,"  he  said  hastily.  "I  was 
not  thinking  of  Margery  for  the  moment,  that  is  all." 

"  Then  you  are  remiss,  and  a  rude  uncle.  You 
know  you  admired  Margery  immensely.  Now,  let 
me  see:  will  you  kindly  tell  me  exactly  how  Sir 
Rupert  Brading  is,  professionally  speaking"?  " 

"  Professionally  speaking,  he  can  hardly  survive 
another  operation,  timed  for  a  fortnight  hence. 
What  can  that  have " 

"  Margery  will  need  my  kind  offices  all  ti         jre. 


276  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

Pity,  in  love,  is  half  the  battle,  isn't  it?  Don't  tell 
me  the  quotation,  if  you  know  one.  I  am  devoting 
myself,  for  once,  to  facts." 

The  "  for  once  "  disarmed  Dr.  Ashwin.  He  was 
baulked  of  a  reply.  He  did  not  really  wish  Violet  to 
talk,  in  one  of  his  capacities;  but  in  the  other,  he 
loved  her  company.  While,  these  two  instincts  were 
at  war  within  him,  Violet  entertained  him  assidu- 
ously. He  had  swept  her  home  from  Battersea,  dis- 
carding the  hired  driver  in  order  to  take  better  care 
of  her,  and  put  her  promptly  to  bed,  buckling  on  his 
professional  armour  to  divert  her  taunts  about  his 
fussiness.  Violet  had  a  beautiful  room,  draped  and 
fitted  according  to  her  personal  taste  with  vivid  gem- 
like colouring,  and  full  of  unique  objects  she  had 
collected,  largely  her  father's  gifts.  She  had  no 
objection  to  being  hostess  there,  she  assured  him, 
rather  than  in  the  rooms  downstairs,  especially  as 
he  very  seldom  paid  her  visits  now.  She  also  had, 
thanks  to  an  inspiration  of  Alice's,  a  wonderful  gar- 
ment of  thick  white  silk  embroidered  with  apple 
blossom,  which  happened  to  be  just  the  thing  for  a 
domestic  party,  such  as  this. 

But  the  dinner  remained  the  difficulty.  She  dared 
him,  with  all  his  wiles,  to  find  a  dinner  in  any  corner 
of  the  house.  She  sat  mocking  with  folded  hands 
while  Claude  rang  the  bell,  and  waited  hopefully 
upon  the  rug.    WTien  nothing  happened,  she  laughed 


FOREIGN  ADMINISTRATIONS       277 

at  him,  and  advised  him,  if  he  was  hungry,  to  go  to 
the  Athenaeum,  a  place  where  the  cooks  stayed  in. 
Personally,  unless  manna  fell  from  heaven  very  soon, 
she  thought  she  would  go  to  sleep.  She  was  de- 
lightfully drowsy,  and  he  had  made  her  deliciously 
comfortable,  and  she  regretted  to  tell  him  he  was 
not  turning  out  so  conversible  as  she  had  hoped. 

Her  father  left  her,  undismayed,  and  went  to  the 
kitchen.  There,  having  walked  about  a  little,  taking 
stock  of  an  unfamiliar  quarter  of  the  house,  he  faced 
his  cook,  who  had  just  come  in  from  her  outing, 
and  whom  his  appearance  scared  so  bitterly  that  she 
dropped  the  key.  He  picked  up  the  key,  and  asked 
her  with  elaborate  politeness  if  there  was  any  food 
to  be  had  conveniently  at  such  an  hour,  or  if  he  had 
better  send  out  to  the  hotel.  Dr.  Ashv/in's  servants 
stood  in  wholesome  awe  of  him  and  his  terrific 
standard  of  efficiency,  but  his  exactions  did  not  breed 
ill-will.  As  for  his  daughter,  a  breath  of  her  need 
was  enough. 

"  He  came  down  Himself,"  gasped  Mason  the 
cook  to  Florence  the  kitchenmaid,  as  they  rushed 
about  their  premises.  "  Walking  all  over  the  place 
he  was,  telling  me  what  to  get  and  where  to  get  it, 
and  me  with  no  breath  at  all  to  follow.  Where  he 
learnt  the  larder,  unless  Miss  Violet  expressly  in- 
formed him,  is  more  than  I  can  say.  Talk  of  keep- 
ing women  in  their  place,  it's  men  as'll  soon  want 


278  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

interfering  with,  if  the  likes  of  him  goes  on.  Not 
but  what  he  knows  what's  good  for  the  dear.  He 
told  me  she  was  tired  out,  and  sensible-like  he  got 
her  into  bed.  I  couldn't  have  done  better  than  that 
myself.  I  told  him  I'd  do  my  poor  best,  granted 
the  short  time  at  my  disposal, —  but  he's  that  quick 
with  his  hands  himself,  and  any  duke  you  like  to 
choose  is  less  particular." 

Florence  the  kitchenmaid,  who  had  perhaps  a 
limited  number  of  dukes  to  choose  from,  shook  her 
head.  But  she  toiled  with  her  fingers,  and  the  pair 
produced  trays  of  dainties  for  Violet  in  the  shortest 
possible  time. 

"  I  wish  I  had  believed  in  your  occult  talents," 
mused  Violet  aloud  above  the  dainties,  "  and  I  would 
have  asked  poor  Alice  here.  But  I  never  really 
believe  till  it  is  too  late." 

"  They  will  be  all  right  where  they  are,"  said 
Claude  shortly.  "  If  Shovell  does  as  I  told  him, 
that  is." 

"Don't  you  think  she  is  absolutely  beautiful*?" 
said  Violet. 

"  Well,"  he  demurred.  "  Absolute  beauty  is  a 
high  saying.  She  is  a  pleasure  to  the  eye,  certainly. 
I've  seldom  seen  a  creature  so  well-formed." 

Violet  made  a  faint  grimace.  "  Technical  a 
trifle,"  she  said.     "  Say  something  nicer  than  that." 

"  She  seems  fond  of  you,"  said  Claude,  touching 


FOREIGN  ADMINISTRATIONS       279 

her  hair.  He  avoided  saying  what,  to  him,  was 
obvious,  that  the  girl  had  knocked  over  poor  young 
Shovell.  He  had  an  excellent  unwillingness  to  inter- 
vene between  boys  and  girls  at  the  first  stage  of  their 
stories,  for  all  his  bitterly-acquired  knowledge.  But 
he  did  wonder  a  little,  as  his  eyes  rested  on  the  pale- 
faced  girl  below  him,  if  Violet  were  to  be  fore- 
doomed in  life  to  unhappiness,  like  himself.  He  had 
seen  her  liking  for  young  Shovell  very  well;  her 
confidence  in  him  was  pretty,  if  ingenuous.  He 
thought  fate  might  spare  such  children,  at  least  for 
the  present;  yet  he  had  small  faith  left  in  fate, 
especially  to-night,  with  the  consciousness  in  the 
background  of  his  mind  perpetually,  of  Eveleen  and 
that  fellow  together  at  Bering  Park.  He  had  known 
all  day,  in  the  stress  of  thought  for  others,  that  those 
black  clouds  were  storing  themselves  for  his  first 
leisure.  It  was  all  he  could  do,  for  the  girl's  sake, 
to  resist  them  now;  and  even  so,  it  was  only  by  a 
counteracting  anxiety. 

Claude  supposed,  since  Arthur  Gibbs  had  told 
him  so,  that  he  was  over-anxious  about  Violet,  but 
he  schooled  himself  with  reasoning  in  vain.  She 
was  not  like  other  girls,  so  how  could  he  be  supposed 
to  argue  reassurance  from  the  experience  of  other 
men?  She  was  so  near  to  him  too,  his  authorship 
so  evident,  it  increased  the  burden.  He  himself  had 
handed  her  the  terrible  inheritance  of  intellect, — 


28o  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

terrible  surely  for  women,  who  must  pay  the  daily 
toll  of  feeling  too, —  and  he  doubted  constantly, 
wretchedly,  if  he  had  handed  her  the  strength  neces- 
sary to  sustain  it.  Arthur  at  Glasswell  that  Sunday 
had  encouraged  him  to  believe  that  the  strength  or 
self-support  was  in  her,  and  it  might  be  so.  At  least, 
strength  or  no,  Claude  did  not  intend  to  keep  her 
by  him  a  moment  longer  than  he  need.  He  had 
told  Arthur  so  roundly,  on  that  occasion.  He  had 
reasons  in  both  his  capacities  for  wishing  her  married, 
for  he  believed  her  health  and  happiness  to  lie  that 
way. 

Violet,  who  had  long  ceased  dining,  and  was 
dreaming  in  her  fashion  too,  startled  him  by  speak- 
ing suddenly. 

"  Father  dear,"  she  said,  lifting  her  eyes  to  him, 
and  laying  her  head  back  on  the  pillows  glimmering 
in  the  dusk,  "  you  are  a  very  wise  man.  Do  you 
think  it  is  safe,  ever,  to  meddle  with  other  lives  ^ 
To  try  for  instance  to  drag  people  who  are  apart 
together'?  Can  it  ever  really  be  done,  with  any 
profit^  " 

He  turned,  and  walked  away  to  the  window 
where  the  late  summer  twilight  was  fading.  Mar- 
garet had  tried  that:  she  had  tried  in  his  own  case. 
But  not  to  bring  together, —  the  reverse. 

"  I  think  it  is  no  use,"  he  said  at  last.  "  But  try. 
Pussy,  by  all  means.    You  are  bound  to  do  it  well." 


FOREIGN  ADMINISTRATIONS       281 

"  To  fail  brilliantly,"  said  Violet. 

He  nodded.  That  was  precisely  what  Margaret 
had  done.  He  had  never,  to  this  late  day,  resented, 
or  forgotten,  her  interference.  How  sweet  she  had 
been,  how  earnest,  and  how  valiantly  alone!  She 
had  not  summoned  even  Arthur,  her  trusted  knight, 
to  lend  her  countenance  in  a  work  which  might,  by 
one  false  word  —  he  knew  it  well  —  have  cleft  her 
life  apart  from  his  finally.  As  it  was,  Eveleen  had 
hated  her,  and  he  had  loved  without  a  shadow, 
with  a  new  respect.  Standing  by  the  London  win- 
dow, he  caught  a  glint  of  moonlight  on  the  slates, 
the  same  moon  that  was  shining  on  them  down 
there,  among  the  exquisite  country  sounds.  Mar- 
garet had  been  his  moon,  bright  even  then  with  the 
crescent  radiance.  Now  that  the  sun  of  his  love 
was  setting  sulkily,  that  moon  of  early  affection 
shone  ever  brighter,  rising  in  the  darkening  sky. 
He  did  not  try  to  word  the  image, —  emotion  had 
got  ahead  even  of  words,  for  his  ingenious  mind,  to- 
night,—  only  it  was  there,  all  ready  to  be  found. 

He  gathered  himself  with  an  effort,  and  walked 
back  to  the  girl,  seating  himself  quietly  in  the  chair 
beside  her  bed. 

"  I  am  a  fool.  Puss,"  he  said,  with  youthful  sim- 
plicity —  so-called,  for  simplicity  is  invariably  ma- 
ture. "  I  have  never  learnt  how  to  fail.  I  am 
inclined  to  say,  you  had  better  learn  it  young  and  get 


282  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

it  over.  It's  my  misfortune  —  perhaps  more  mis- 
fortune than  fault  —  that  I  never  did." 

Violet  stretched  out  her  fingers  and  took  his  hand. 

"  You  simply  can't,"  she  declared.  "  I  am  sorry 
to  doubt  your  word,  dear,  but  I  can't  promise  even 
a  brilliant  failure  to  such  as  you.  You  are  always 
in  the  very  middle  of  the  target.  Even  in  little 
things  like  this  dinner,  you  do  right  instinctively.  I 
thought  you  were  wrong,  I  may  confess  it,  when  it 
appeared.  I  was  dreadfully  nervous  for  your  credit, 
quite  as  much  as  for  my  own.  But  now,  I  feel  so 
much  better  —  it's  quite  ridiculous." 

He  remained  stationary,  a  hand  across  his  face. 
It  might  have  been  his  sister  speaking.  He  was 
haunted  simply. 

Violet  began  to  talk,  as  though  she  knew  that 
was  what  he  needed.  She  told  him  stories,  about 
Margery  and  others.  He  only  began  to  listen  by 
degrees  —  to  the  sense,  that  is :  he  loved  the  manner 
and  the  phrasing  so  much. 

Of  course  one  could  not  think  much  of  Margery 
Gibbs  when  Violet  was  by,  though  Margery  was  his 
sister's  own  girl.  She  was  not  the  least  Margaret's 
girl  really.  Yet  she  was  pretty  and  steady  and 
trustful,  and  had  got  into  a  tangle,  so  it  seemed.  A 
gardener, —  oh  ridiculous !  The  girl  had  the  pick  of 
London  and  Cambridge,  Robert  Brading,  at  her  beck 
and  call.     Violet  was  romantic  and  credulous,  as 


FOREIGN  ADMINISTRATIONS       283 

young  girls  are.  Was  that  the  kind  of  situation  she 
was  managing? 

Then  Violet  spoke  of  his  running  over,  or  failing 
to  run  over,  somebody, —  the  gardener  again.  And 
suddenly,  he  saw  a  face.  The  face  of  a  man  by  the 
wayside, —  the  same,  though  beardless, —  connected 
with  an  instant  of  ghastly  tragedy,  a  crowd,  a  sordid 
clamour,  sights  and  scents  frequent  in  his  own  life, 
but  nothing  that  \'iolet  could  or  should  even  know. 
Was  that  the  man  —  Margery's  *?  What  was  the 
child  dreaming  of'?    What  was  this*? 

Claude  awoke,  for  indeed  his  weariness  had  gained 
on  him,  and  in  the  twilight  of  the  airy  chamber,  the 
soft  voice  soothing  him,  he  had  been  near  to  sleep. 
He  caught  himself  up  in  a  barely  visible  movement, 
and  considered  sharply. 

Yes,  to  be  sure :  Gibbs'  gardener.  He  had  left  it 
in  Arthur's  hands  to  judge.  Young  Brading  also 
had  written  him  a  line;  somewhere  among  the  mass 
of  his  weekly  correspondence,  it  had  been  handed 
him  by  his  secretary,  and  he  had  replied.  He  had 
supposed  a  young  detective  following  a  scent, —  he 
had  not  guessed  a  jealous  lover.  Yes,  here  was 
trouble,  very  possibly:  Violet  was  right.  Something 
could,  and  had  better  possibly,  be  done. 

Violet  saw  him  awaken  out  of  his  languor,  and  his 
eyes  gather  life  again,  and  she  was  pleased. 

"  You  like  Mr.  Brading,  don't  you.  Father?  "  she 


284  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

said  artlessly.  "  It  is  silly  of  course  of  Margery,  if 
true:  but  I  have  reason  to  believe  it  is  a  fact.  My 
correspondents'  inaccuracies  cancel  one  another,  you 
know,  like  fractions, —  and  facts  emerge.  If  it 
is  true, —  do  you  suppose  anything  can  be  done 
about  it?  " 

"Oh,  certainly  —  yes,"  said  Claude.  His  tone 
was  brisk. 

"  That's  more  like  it,"  Violet  congratulated  him. 
**  You  look  quite  clever  again.  Shall  we  conspire, 
in  the  matter,  just  a  little?  Do  you  enjoy  con- 
spiracy a  deux?  Perhaps  you  had  better  abandon 
Mother  at  Dering,  and  come  to  Glasswell  after  all." 

"  Oh,  rubbish,"  he  said.  "  Never  use  two  where 
one  will  serve.  Besides,  I  am  obviously  too  old  to 
be  appropriate." 

"  You  don't  look  awfully  old,"  said  Violet.  "  I 
daresay  you  could  distract  dear  Margery's  atten- 
tion, if  you  tried." 

"  While  you  set  your  cap  at  what's-his-name? 
That's  your  idea  of  disentangling,  is  it?  I  won't 
have  a  thing  to  do  with  it,  it's  disreputable.  Gang 
your  own  gait  and  don't  disturb  your  parents." 

"  Should  I  have  my  '  dot '  if  I  came  to  you  en- 
gaged to  him?"  enquired  Violet.  "He  is  an  en- 
tirely beautiful  man.  His  name  suggests  Christina 
Rossetti, —  '  peacocks  with  a  hundred  eyes.'  I  am 
sure  you  would  like  me  to  have  that  name.     He  is 


FOREIGN  ADMINISTRATIONS      285 

also  silent  and  strong,  as  Charles  observed.  In  books 
I  have  always  loved  that  special  sort." 

"  And  they  always  marry  the  heroine?  " 

"  So  they  do.  Is  Margery  the  heroine  —  or  am  I*? 
Look  at  me  well, —  an  awful  question.  I'm  sure  I'm 
better  dressed."  She  shook  the  white  silk  and  apple 
blossom  down  her  slim  bare  arm;  her  hand  was  hold- 
ing him  tightly  all  the  time. 

"  You're  sleepy,"  said  her  doctor-father  definitely. 
"  If  you  say  another  word,  I  will  dethrone  you  both 
from  heroineship,  and  put  up  that  pretty  girl  across 
the  river  you  showed  me  to-night." 

"  Oh  do.  Father  I  Say  you  will  I  You  are  an 
Angel  of  intelligence,  really."  ^ 

"Am  I*?"  The  Angel  of  intelligence  began  to 
put  her  pillows  straight.  He  did  not  trouble  much 
about  her  extravagance,  except  to  mark  how  easily 
the  high  wind  of  excitement  rose. 

"  Is  that  right*?  "  he  asked  after  a  moment  or  two. 

"  Perfect,"  said  Violet.  "  I  must  really  have  re- 
course to  your  services  again,  Dr.  Asbwin,  next  time 
I  have  the  vapours.     Good  night." 

"  Nothing  further?  "  he  insisted,  glancing  about 
him  beneath  a  slightly  furrowed  brow.  Perfection 
was  the  least,  the  very  least,  his  daughter  could  be 
allowed. 

"  Oh  well, —  a  kiss,  of  course,"  said  she. 

He  half-started,  turned,  and  bent  to  her,  shyly 


286  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

almost;  and  she  caught  him  with  her  slender  arms. 
It  was  a  singular  thing,  worth  noting,  but  Eveleen 
Ashwin  disliked  embracing  in  her  presence,  especially 
if  Claude  was  a  party  concerned;  and  Violet  fre- 
quently kissed  him  by  stealth.  She  referred  to  the 
fact  now,  as  he  held  her. 

"Mother  would  despise  us,  wouldn't  she*?"  she 
laughed.  "  I'm  smaller,  I  suppose, —  I  can't  do  with- 
out it." 

"  Nor  I,"  he  answered  just  audibly.  She  did  not 
seem  to  hear  him, —  she  was  thinking  of  his  comfort 
still. 

"  Empty  rooms,  poor  dear,  and  no  billiards, —  no 
girl  to  play  to  you  even.  Can't  you  telephone  to  Mr. 
Warden?    Won't  you  go  over  to  the  Club?  " 

"  No,  I  have  letters  to  write,"  he  said. 

"  Not  duty  ones,  then :  leave  those  for  Mr.  Ford." 

"Not  duty.  A  line  to  your  mother,  and  half  a 
line  to  Arthur  Gibbs." 

"To  Uncle  Arthur?  Half  a  line  more  of  love, 
then,  from  me.  Two  lines  of  letter,  all  told, — 
promise  me  no  more." 

"  Nothing  to  Mother?  "  he  suggested. 

"  Of  course, —  don't  be  absurd, —  all  the  desirable 
things." 

"  Desirable !  "  he  thought,  in  triumph  almost  at 
her  accurate  instinct.  Even  in  his  arms,  she  did  not 
deceive  him  for  an  instant. 


FOREIGN  ADMINISTRATIONS       287 

"  I  was  teasing  simply,  darling,"  he  said.  "  That 
is  enough:  lie  down." 

His  "  half-line  "  to  Arthur  Gibbs,  written  some 
twenty  minutes  later,  ran  as  follows: 

"  Dear  Arthur, 

"  Would  you  rather  fool  another,  or  be  fooled'? 
According  to  your  answer,  I  shall  judge  henceforth 
of  your  calling,  and  how  you  have  spent  your  life.  I 
omitted  to  insist  that  your  gardener  was  rather  an 
ill-regulated  knave,  while  suggesting  to  your  more 
charitable  judgment  he  was  an  ass.  Well,  did  you 
ever  hear  of  Titania*?  I  am  informed  love-in-idle- 
ness grows  about  your  garden, —  on  the  authority 
of  my  own  flower,  who  should  know.  Heave  it  out, 
I  advise  you,  for  not  even  prospective  graduates  are 
safe  in  summer-time. 

"  Will  you  have  Violet  for  a  fortnight  from  Tues- 
day next?  She  is  asked  to  Dering  along  with  us, 
but  I  will  not  take  her  there.  I  throw  myself  on 
Mrs.  Gibbs'  clemency  instead.  Violet,  who  sends 
her  love  to  you,  is  not  sick,  only  sensational;  and 
girls  and  greenhorns  are  the  safest  company.  No 
offence  whatever  to  Mr.  Charles," 

The  Reverend  Mr.  Gibbs  replied  in  kind,  after 
some  twenty- four  hours  impressive  pause. 

"  Claude,"  he  preluded  sternly, 


288  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

"  You  are  reckless  by  nature,  and  frivolous  by 
education,  and  no  hard  experience  seems  to  help  you. 
You  have  risked  our  friendship,  which  I  value  con- 
siderably, on  one  smart  throw;  and  I  regret  to  tell 
you  you  have  won  the  stakes.  As  it  is,  I  am  not 
even  going  to  quarrel  with  you,  I  am  too  depressed. 
How,  with  my  practice  in  your  pestilent  obscurantist 
methods,  I  failed  originally  to  guess,  I  can  only  leave 
your  impudence  to  supply.  Probably  you  patted 
my  hobby  in  the  intervals  of  suggesting  scandal  to 
his  rider's  nobler  ear. 

"  I  simply  don't  know  what  to  do  with  Margery, 
and  I  dread,  for  her,  the  results  of  chucking  the  man. 
I  have  talked  to  both  all  I  know,  and  both  baffle  me, 
especially  he.  Oh,  deuce  take  it,  why  couldn't  you 
tell  a  fellow  before  it  happened^  I'm  getting  old, 
and  never  was  a  serpent,  or  a  society  man.  Hen- 
rietta, who  noticed  nothing,  is  especially  down  on 
me,  and  it  is  true  I  knew  Margery  before  she  did. 
Maud,  of  course,  has  been  suffering  in  silence,  and 
will  hardly  speak  to  me  even  now.  How  you  dis- 
covered —  I  suppose  along  with  Satan,  who  was  cer- 
tainly concerned.  I  passionately  refuse  to  believe 
that  you  are  in  the  confidence,  to  that  extent,  of  a 
damsel  of  eighteen.  I  have  myself  a  girl  of  eighteen, 
and  if  you  assert  anything  of  the  kind,  you  lie. 

"  My  blessing  on  the  child,  and  send  her  quickly. 
Her  uncle  pins  his  faith  to  her.     Margery  wants 


FOREIGN  ADMINISTRATIONS       289 

shaking,  and  her  sister  won't,  and  I  daren't,  and 
it's  against  Henrietta's  principles.  Violet  alone  can 
do  it.  Indeed,  I  doubt  she  has  been  at  the  work 
already :  for  when  I  said  she  was  coming,  Maid  Mar- 
gery melted  into  tears.'* 


II 

LOVE   IN   IDLENESS 

Dr.  Ashwin  did  not  go  down  to  Dering,  for  on  the 
eve  of  departure  a  frantic  telegram  from  Lady 
Brading  summoned  him.  But  Violet  did  go  down  to 
Glasswell,  and  Margery,  who  had  been  shrinking 
from  all  society,  met  her  at  the  station. 

It  is  not  our  intention  to  describe  what  the  two 
girls  said  to  one  another,  in  the  somewhat  prolonged 
interval  before  the  dog-cart  reached  the  house.  The 
pony,  for  lack  of  any  encouragement  from  Margery's 
lazy  whip,  walked  at  his  own  pace,  and  followed  his 
own  erratic  course  up  the  hilly  winding  road,  jerking 
the  two  girls  every  time  he  turned.  A  gusty  breeze 
blew  Violet's  hair  about  unheeded.  She  talked  the 
most,  and  had,  for  a  large  part  of  the  way,  a  hand 
upon  her  cousin's  wrist.  Margery  did  not  cry,  but 
her  pretty  face  looked  drawn  and  lifeless. 

She  admitted  she  had  heard  from  Robert,  though 
she  would  not  show  Violet  the  letter,  and  Violet  did 
not  ask  to  see  it.  She  admitted,  on  her  cousin's 
suggestion,  that  she  was  very  sorry  for  him.  One 
could  not  be  less  than  that,  towards  a  man  who  was 


FOREIGN  ADxMINISTRATIONS       291, 

losing  by  slow  but  agonising  degrees  a  wise  and 
open-handed  father,  whose  mother  was  worn  to 
shreds  by  anxiety,  and  literally  half-crazed  by  grief. 
The  Bradings  were  an  affectionate  and  closely-knit 
family,  and  it  was  certainly  very  hard  on  Bob. 

But  Margery  could  not  feel  rightly  about  it, 
barely  even  as  her  up-bringing  and  conscientious 
principles  dictated.  Maud  was  a  better  girl  than 
she  was,  she  told  Violet,  and  felt  things  more  deeply, 
by  far.  She  wished, —  she  did  wish  quite  wildly, — 
that  Mr.  Brading  would  think  of  Maud,  or  anybody 
else,  and  forget  about  her.  She  was  impatient  with 
everyone,  in  gusts.  She  was  very  miserable,  very 
remorseful  for  worrying  Papa,  but  she  could  not 
feel  otherwise  than  she  did.  She  supposed  God 
had  decreed  it, —  and  she  left  it  there. 

Violet  supposed  nothing  of  the  sort,  but  she  did 
not  say  so.  She  soothed  Margery  by  pretty  talk  of 
other  things.  She  admired  the  woodland  views  and 
vistas, —  so  much  preferable  from  a  friendly  pony- 
cart,  rather  than  from  a  flustering  one.  She  enquired 
if  Margery  had  been  painting  much,  and  received 
a  curt  negative  for  answer.  She  regretted  it,  for  she 
personally  hankered  after  a  certain  view  of  Glass- 
well  village  from  the  home  field, —  and  her  birthday 
was  coming  quite  soon.  Apropos,  would  Margery 
come  for  her  birthday  party?  —  Mother  had  said 
she  might  have  one.     Margery,  still  aloof,  had  an 


292  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

idea  the  Newnham  rules  were  rather  strict.  Violet 
was  pained  to  hear  it,  but  had  an  immutable  con- 
viction that  a  note  from  Father  to  the  Principal 
would  adjust  things,  as  soon  as  it  became  essential, 
according  to  her  taste. 

At  the  house,  she  was  surprised  to  hear  that 
Charles  was  away.  Margery  had  never  mentioned 
that  I  It  was  evidently  news  to  Violet,  though  the 
Gibbs  family  had  presumed  she  must  be  in  the 
secret,  and  had  indeed  been  awaiting  enlightenment. 
Charles,  it  seemed,  had  been  away  since  Saturday, 
—  the  Players'  match.  Mrs.  Gibbs,  concealing  her 
prompt  alarm,  had  told  everybody  that  a  friend 
had  taken  him  home  after  the  match,  and  he  had 
slept  where  he  dined,  regardless  of  everybody's  con- 
venience, as  usual.  Violet's  brows  lifted,  and  her 
eyes  turned  absent,  while  they  talked.  It  occurred 
to  her  at  once  that  Charles  had  had  some  plot  in 
mind  when  he  sought  her  that  evening  at  the  studio. 
He  had  behaved  and  looked  at  her  so  oddly,  almost 
with  reproach,  and  she  had  been  too  dazed  at  the 
time  to  account  for  it.  He  had  expected  her  co- 
operation in  the  game,  no  doubt,  and,  when  she 
fainted  instead,  had  been  naturally  disgusted  with 
her  lack  of  spirit.  Looking  back,  Violet  decided 
that,  headache  and  such  details  notwithstanding, 
she  had  been  rather  unfeeling  to  poor  Charles.  She 
only  trusted  Alice  had  been  kinder,  but  one  could 


FOREIGN  ADMINISTRATIONS       293 

not  be  sure.  Alice  had  not  had  a  promising  appear- 
ance that  night  of  suffering  casual  young  gentlemen 
gladly.     Alice  was  a  cranky  girl,  at  times. 

All  this  Violet  thought,  but  she  kept  her  counsel ; 
for  evidently,  in  his  own  household,  all  was  not 
well  on  the  subject  of  Charles.  Maud  told  her  in 
private,  his  note  to  Mamma  had  been  strange. 
Mamma  thought  he  was  behaving  strangely,  and 
even  before  his  departure  they  had  noticed  some- 
thing strange  in  Charles.  The  word  "  strange  "  was 
as  far  as  Maud,  at  least,  tried  to  get  in  the  matter; 
but  she  was  clearly  deep  in  her  stepmother's  confi- 
dence, and  Violet  thought  her  sympathy  very  beau- 
tiful, even  if  the  wording  of  it  lacked  variety. 
Personally,  being  a  mere  outsider,  she  only  put  in  a 
word  or  two  to  cheer  Mrs.  Gibbs,  who  was  inclined 
to  secret  worry,  as  Violet  had  long  since  regretfully 
perceived. 

"  I  am  sure  he  will  do  nothing  silly,"  said  Violet 
definitely.  "  It's  only  some  fine  adventure,  you 
know,  which  will  fizzle  out  like  a  firework  quite 
soon.  And  he  will  have  the  most  beautiful  story 
about  it,  for  you  and  the  rest  of  us,  when  he  comes 
home." 

Mrs.  Gibbs  could  not  but  admit  this  showed  real 
knowledge  of  Charles;  and,  though  the  assurance 
came  from  such  an  unauthenticated  quarter,  it  con- 
soled her  curiously. 


294  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

It  occurred  to  Margery,  the  following  afternoon, 
to  go  down  into  the  field  to  paint,  when  she  had  spent 
some  time  getting  her  palettes  into  order,  for  the 
apparatus  had  suffered  from  its  sudden  and  complete 
neglect.  Consequently,  having  helped  her  off,  Miss 
Ashwin  was  at  a  loose  end.  She  talked  nicely  in 
the  drawing-room  for  a  period,  and  then,  having 
informed  Maud  and  her  aunt  that  they  were  horribly 
busy,  wandered  out  upon  the  lawn. 

It  was  a  pleasant  day,  and  Uncle  Arthur's  garden 
was  looking  beautiful.  Several  improvements,  of 
which  he  had  spoken  to  Violet  as  mere  projects  at 
their  last  encounter,  had  become  actualities  in  the 
course  of  the  summer.  She  sought  for  some  time, 
wandering  from  point  to  point  and  taking  observa- 
tions, to  explain  the  difference  in  the  place  since 
May;  for  of  course  she  would  sooner  or  later  have 
to  report  an  opinion  to  the  proprietor,  and  it  was 
better  to  prepare  words  for  it. 

She  came  to  the  conclusion  finally,  that  whereas 
it  had  then  been  an  amateurish  garden  with  a 
professional  finish,  it  was  now  a  professional  garden 
with  a  personal  note.  She  liked  the  personal  note 
immensely  while  admiring  the  immaculate  order  and 
prosperity  of  the  whole  parterre.  She  had  no 
idea,  being  city-born,  how  Uncle  Arthur  and  clever 
Peacock  did  it, —  it  seemed  a  pity  someone  like 
Charles  was  not  at  her  side  to  explain.    Charles  had 


FOREIGN  ADMINISTRATIONS       295 

explained  various  interesting  matters  to  her  before, 
because  he  was  a  person  given  to  sitting  about 
the  world  and  noting  details.  Now  Violet  always 
intended  to  improve  her  mind  by  this  process, —  but 
when  it  should  have  begun,  she  generally  forgot,  and 
dreamed.  That  was  a  tiresome  inheritance  from  the 
Ashwin  stock  that  she  could  not,  like  "  the  doctor," 
learn  to  overcome.   She  trusted  to  do  so,  in  time. 

Her  white  dress  flashed  to  and  fro  for  some  time 
about  the  walks  in  sight  of  the  house,  and  Maud  told 
her  mother  in  the  drawing-room  that  Violet  was  prob- 
ably composing  something,  and  need  not  be  bothered 
about  by  anybody,  because  Maud  knew  the  signs. 
So  Mrs.  Gibbs  did  not  bother,  and  went  out  with  a 
basket  containing  the  Rector's  cast-off  boots,  to  see 
a  family  in  the  village.  Maud,  on  h  r  departure, 
slank  instantly  to  the  kitchen,  where  her  cake- 
making  talents  were  of  value;  and  the  flash  of 
Violet's  skirt  disappeared  simuhaneously  from  the 
flowered  parterre,  and  was  lost  behind  the  laurel 
hedges  of  the  kitchen-garden.  She  thought  it  very 
probable  she  should  find  Peacock  working  there. 

She  judged  correctly,  and  had  not  to  seek  long. 
Peacock,  on  a  short  ladder,  was  correcting  an  over- 
powering growth  of  creeper  against  the  low  roof  of 
his  own  cottage.  It  was  evidently  most  artistic 
and  entrancing  work,  and  he  was  deeply  engrossed 
by  it.     Violet,  at  her  first  observation  of  his  pro- 


296  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

ceedings,  thought  she  perceived  that  nature  must 
be  cajoled  by  gardeners,  and  coaxed  to  believe  that 
she  had  done  it  all  herself  when  the  creepers  and 
rose  trees  took  an  especially  elegant  shape.  There 
must  be  no  force  anywhere,  only  flattery:  because 
nature  was  a  woman,  perhaps.  That  was  all  very 
interesting  indeed, —  but  Peacock  was  more  so. 

She  had  looked  through  all  Margery's  sketches, 
of  course,  and  been  properly  impressed,  by  artist 
and  model  equally.  Now,  especially  when  he  first 
perceived  her,  and  leant  a  hand  on  an  upper  window- 
ledge,  in  a  most  dangerous  pose,  to  turn  and  take 
her  in,  she  thought  she  had  seldom  seen  a  more  heroic 
figure.  But  for  the  most  complete  strength  and 
physical  poise,  that  ladder  must  necessarily  have 
come  crashing  down,  and  Mr.  Peacock's  life  and 
labours  been  summarily  ended.  It  did  not,  and  the 
gardener  turned  to  his  work  again. 

"  How  beautiful  your  cottage  looks,"  said  Violet. 

"  Yes,  miss,"  said  Pesfcock. 

That  was  extraordinarily  nice  of  him,  to  exhibit 
no  shame  in  admitting  gratification  in  the  ownership 
of  a  beautiful  object,  which  was  largely  his  own 
production.  It  signified  various  latent  virtues,  such 
as  dignity,  self-respect,  an  open  mind  and  a  sense  of 
beauty,  to  Violet's  trained  perceptions.  The  terse- 
ness of  its  expression  was  its  final  charm.     Violet 


FOREIGN  ADMINISTRATIONS       297 

hardly  wondered,  as  she  prepared  her  next  move, 
that  poor  Margery  had  been  attracted. 

"  I  wonder  if  you  found  my  card,"  she  said,  ap- 
proaching a  little,  though  she  eyed  the  ladder 
anxiously,  "  when  I  and  Mr.  Shovell  called  before. 
It  is  some  time  since,  but  you  may  remember.  He 
brought  me  here,  because  I  did  so  want  to  see  and 
congratulate  you." 

"  Thank  you,  miss,"  said  Peacock, —  the  obvious 
answer,  exacted  by  the  highest  social  standards,  and 
beautifully  spoken.  His  voice  was  nice,  rather  sub- 
dued, his  consonants  especially  clear  and  distinct. 

"  Now  you  are  still  more  to  be  congratulated," 
said  Violet,  "  f or  I  hear  from  Mr.  Gibbs  that  one  of 
your  beautiful  roses,  and  several  of  the  peas,  got  a 
prize." 

"  Three,  miss,"  said  Peacock. 

"  Really'?  "  said  Violet.  "  That  is  better  still." 
She  felt  her  own  remark  was  commonplace.  Really, 
she  thought,  she  must  rub  up  her  conversation,  if 
she  was  not  to  be  beaten  in  open  field  by  this  truly 
striking  man.  Unluckily,  she  knew  so  little  about 
his  profession  herself, —  but  then  ladies  trained  on 
the  Riviera,  and  personally  invited  by  Earls,  know 
how  to  overcome  that  difficulty. 

"  The  large  shell-coloured  rose,"  said  Violet, 
"with  the  little  pearly  drops  between  the  petals, 


298  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

against  the  wall  by  the  stable,  strikes  me  as  specially 
beautiful.    Was  that  the  prize  one,  I  wonder^  " 

"  No,  miss,"  said  Peacock.  Well,  it  was  no 
wonder  that  professionals  should  kick  occasionally, 
at  the  pretentious  and  silly  observations  of  the 
amateur.  She  felt  she  must  be  especially  courteous 
and  attentive,  to  make  up.  There  was  the  motor 
incident,  for  example, —  a  word  in  season  could  well 
be  said  as  to  that. 

"  I  ought  to  tell  you,"  said  Violet,  "  how  deeply 
I  regret  my  father  —  Dr.  Ashwin's  behaviour  to  you 
—  oh!" 

She  could  not  avoid  the  exclamation,  and  shrank 
back;  for  the  ladder  seemed  in  imminent  danger  of 
collapsing.  Peacock  caught  the  coping  and  saved 
himself,  trampling  it  sedulously  straight.  He  did 
not  turn,  though,  or  excuse  himself  to  the  lady. 

"  I'm  very  sorry,"  said  Violet,  rather  low  and 
breathless,  "and  I  hate  to  interrupt  you  in  your 
work;  but  it  makes  me  too  nervous  to  talk  while 
you  stand  up  there.  Would  you  terribly  mind,  I 
wonder,  coming  down*?  " 

Peacock,  unheeding  her,  continued  to  work 
imperturbably.  He  might  not  have  heard  her  re- 
quest,—  possibly  did  not,  for  he  had  begun  to  snip 
with  some  squeaky  shears.  Miss  Ashwin  never  made 
a  request  to  a  gentleman  twice.  She  waited  for  the 
next  pause  in  the  clipping, —  she  had  to  wait  some 


FOREIGN  ADMINISTRATIONS       299 

time,  with  her  teeth  on  edge, —  and  then  she  said: 
"  Mr.  Peacock  I  " 

He  could  not  pretend  that  the  soft  staccato  voice 
was  not  bound  to  reach  him,  so  he  turned  his  head  a 
little,  sufficient  to  show  that  he  heard. 

"  Are  you  angry  with  us^  "  said  Violet.  "  Perhaps 
it  startled  you,  that  day." 

There  was  the  faintest  movement  in  the  man's 
shoulders,  resembling  a  shrug,  for  answer.  He  took 
up  the  shears  again.  The  situation  was,  socially 
speaking,  trying  in  the  extreme,  as  well  as  completely 
unexpected.  He  had  begun  with  such  delightful 
and  satisfactory  responsiveness,  according  to  Violet's 
skilled  reading,  that  it  was  the  more  disappointing. 
If  only  Charles  were  there  I 

"  Is  it  Father  you  are  angry  with'?  "  said  Violet. 
*'  Father  is  rather  heedless,  especially  when  he  is  in 
a  hurry,  and  he  always  expects  other  people  to  be  as 
quick  as  he  is.     But  he  meant  no  harm." 

She  heard  a  slight  mutter,  and  gave  it  the  best 
attainable  interpretation. 

"  Please  don't  apologise,"  she  said.  "  It  was 
entirely  our  fault.  I  always  resent  it  fearfully  when 
people  give  me  shocks " 

It  could  not  surely  have  been  intentional,  but  he 
moved  his  feet  again,  and  the  ladder,  with  horrid 
suddenness,  swung  sidelong  into  the  creeper,  which 
fortunately  stayed  it  up,   and  prevented  it  from 


300  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

dashing  to  the  earth  in  Violet's  direction.  At  the 
same  moment  Peacock  spurned  the  ladder,  and  with 
a  remarkable  exhibition  of  strength,  grace  and 
agility,  swarmed  upon  the  roof.  When  Violet 
opened  her  eyes,  and  unclenched  the  little  fists  she 
had  gripped  in  panic  at  her  breast,  he  was  actually 
upon  the  roof,  half  kneeling,  though  turned  away, 

"  But  I  don't  bear  malice,"  she  finished,  in  her 
very  sweetest  manner,  approaching  and  looking  up 
at  him,  "  when  the  shock  is  safely  past." 

It  was  as  she  stood  there,  quite  close,  though 
below  him,  awaiting  the  apology  any  gentleman, 
man  or  gardener,  high  or  low,  would  have  offered  to 
such  as  she,  that  he  rose  to  his  feet,  turned,  and  she 
saw  him  fully,  for  he  faced  her, —  a  gallant  shape  of 
manhood,  his  body  backed  against  the  mossy  roof, 
his  head  and  shoulders  against  the  sky.  She  noticed 
the  shoulders  shaking,  thought  he  had  been  alarmed 
as  well,  and  did  not,  for  an  instant,  believe  the 
evidence  of  her  eyes. 

He  was  laughing! 

Violet  could  not  declare  later  why  that  laughter 
frightened  her,  but  it  did.  It  was  like  the  laughter 
of  an  impish,  heartless  boy, —  not  that  of  a  man 
grown  and  trained  to  serious  ways  of  life.  Abel 
Peacock  saw  her  face  beneath  him  turn  white  and 
grave,  and,  after  a  second's  pause,  her  slight  figure 
turn  and  withdraw  in  the  direction  of  the  shrubbery 


FOREIGN  ADMINISTRATIONS      301 

that  shrouded  the  cottage  to  the  further  side.  He 
watched  her  white  dress  vanish:  then  he  stopped 
laughing,  sat  down  upon  the  coping  of  the  roof,  and 
considered  deep  and  bitterly. 


Ill 

NOTES 

Violet  missed  Charles  very  badly  as  she  thought 
over  Peacock's  behaviour;  though  she  was  too 
proud,  after  the  first,  to  wonder  openly  where  he 
was.  As  it  chanced,  though,  the  next  morning  she 
was  herself  able  to  offer  the  anxious  circle  some  news 
of  him,  though  sufficiently  vague  and  indirect,  for 
she  had  a  letter  from  Mr.  Warden. 

The  letter,  since  she  had  left  London  but  eight- 
and-forty  hours  before,  was  ridiculously  long  and 
closely  written ;  and  Violet,  poring  over  its  contents 
before  lunch  in  the  garden,  appeared  to  find  it  en- 
thralling. Mr.  Gibbs  at  the  lunch-table  teased  her 
busily  on  the  subject  of  her  beaux,  but  got  nothing 
of  much  value  to  appease  the  general  curiosity. 

"  He  often  writes  to  me,"  she  said,  "  and  always 
volumes.  He  probably  hopes  I  shall  publish  them 
twenty  years  hence,  when  he  is  safely  dead;  but  if  I 
do,  I  shall  have  to  snip  out  whole  paragraphs,  for 
they  absolutely  bristle  with  personalities." 

"  For  instance,"  said  Mr.  Gibbs,  settling  comfort- 
ably. 


FOREIGN  ADxMINISTRATIONS       303 

"  For  instance, —  he  met  my  friend  Alice  at  a 
restaurant,  and  he  says  she  fell  in  love  with  him  at 
first  sight.  Now  knowing  Mr.  Warden's  ways  I 
am  aware  that  means  he  was  rather  dangerously 
attracted,  and  probably  teased  her  with  attentions. 
But  nobody  could  know  that,  could  they'?  —  without 
a  note." 

"  A  few  more  notes  on  the  document  in  hand," 
said  Mr.  Gibbs,  glancing  about  him,  "  would  be 
acceptable  to  the  Public." 

"  I  will  append  one,"  said  Violet,  "  in  the  sanctity 
of  your  study,  after  lunch.    Do  you  mind  if  I  do'?  " 

"  I  smoke  in  my  study,"  said  Mr.  Gibbs. 

"  Well,  I  have  no  objection  to  a  cigarette.  I  have 
never  dared  to  in  Alice's  company,  though  often  at 
a  critical  juncture,  such  as  a  fitting,  I  have  simply 
ached  for  it." 

"  Your  aunt  is  sorry  to  hear  this,  Violet,"  said  Mr. 
Gibbs,  striving  for  the  dignity  of  his  cloth. 

"  She  has  done  as  much  herself  before  now,"  said 
Violet,  "  when  Charles  worried  her  for  subscriptions 
to  things  at  school.  She  told  me  so  while  we  were  un- 
packing."   She  smiled  down  the  table  to  Mrs,  Gibbs. 

"  She  never  told  me"  said  the  Rector  severely. 

"  Oh,  good  heavens  I  "  said  Violet,  dropping  back. 
"  I  have  violated  confidence.  I  quite  thought  by 
this  time  you  would  have  got  at  everything.  It  can't 
matter,    though,"    she    added,    bethinking   herself, 


304  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

"  because  she  gave  it  up  two  years  later  for  Charles' 
sake." 

"  Does  your  mother  smoke,  Violet?  "  said  Mrs. 
Gibbs,  just  for  the  sake  of  saying  something. 

"  Really,  I  hardly  know,"  said  Violet.  "  I  can't 
imagine  she  can  need  it.  What  do  you  say'?  "  She 
glanced  lightly  at  her  uncle,  who  bit  his  lip.  Her 
clear  cold  tone  about  her  mother  invariably  went  to 
the  Rector's  heart:  it  seemed  to  him  so  pitiful,  and 
marked  such  a  steady  attitude  of  disdain.  He 
would  have  stopped  his  wife,  but  she  was  still  at  the 
stage  of  curiosity  about  the  child. 

"  What  is  that  place  like  your  father  mentioned," 
she  enquired,   "  Dering  Park?  " 

Violet  blushed  visibly,  but  hardly  hesitated. 

"  It  is  a  beautiful  old  place,"  she  said,  slowly, 
"  full  of  beautiful  new  people.  The  Derings  never 
want  them,  but  they  come." 

"How  can  they  come  without  an  invitation?" 
said  innocent  Maud. 

Violet  did  not  answer  directly.  "  Mother  got  one," 
she  confided  privately  for  her  uncle's  ear.  "  Father 
congratulated  her  solemnly  on  the  occasion.  It's  a 
record,  really,  only  unfortunately  the  other  people 
will  never  know." 

"Was  she  uplifted?"  said  Mr.  Gibbs,  adopting 
the  same  tone  of  exaggerated  confidence. 

"Well,"  said  Violet,  "I  watched  hard  for  the 


FOREIGN  ADMINISTRATIONS       305 

symptoms.  But  I  saw  nothing,  and  Father's  secre- 
tary thought  she  was  going  to  refuse." 

"  Marvellous  woman,"  said  Mr.  Gibbs,  shaking 
his  head.  "  She  will  certainly  go  far.  But  what  has 
the  secretary  got  to  do  with  it?  " 

"  Oh,"  said  Violet,  "  he  answers  nearly  all  her 
letters  that  Father  doesn't,  you  know.  When  Father 
isn't  there.  Mother  often  uses  him.  He  is  a  very 
amenable  person,  Mr.  Ford." 

The  Rector's  expressive  eye  just  caught  his  wife's, 
filled  with  a  sublime  horror.  In  future  they  avoided 
the  subject  of  Eveleen  and  her  amenable  surround- 
ings with  some  care.  Violet,  always  strained  to 
combine  accuracy  with  delicacy  on  the  subject,  was 
grateful  to  them. 

She  was  much  more  comfortable  with  Mr.  Gibbs, 
alone,  in  the  study  after  lunch.  She  was  still  far 
from  well,  and  easily  tired,  and  she  settled  gratefully 
into  the  deep  leather  chair  he  advanced  for  her 
accommodation. 

"  Dear  Uncle  Arthur,"  she  said,  when  he  kissed 
her  in  passing  to  his  own.  "  This  is  the  first  time  we 
have  had  a  fair  chance,  isn't  it*?  I  hope  you  are 
really  at  liberty,  this  time,  and  not  just  bearing  with 
me." 

"  I  can  bear  with  you,  my  dear,"  he  assured  her 
quietly.     "  You  look  perfectly  in  place." 

"  Do  you  think  so?  "  said  Violet,  answering  the 


3o6  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

allusion,  not  the  words.  "  Father  does  too.  But  she 
was  much  more  really  beautiful,  wasn't  she?  " 

"  No,"  said  the  Rector.  "  None  of  you  are  really 
beautiful.  You  all  have  an  elvish  strain.  Moon- 
light elves,"  he  added  pensively. 

She  was  silent  for  a  period,  thinking. 

"  It's  not  hopeless,"  she  said  at  last.  "  Margery's 
side,  I  mean.     I  have  come  to  that  conclusion." 

"  Thank  God,"  said  the  Rector,  without  profanity. 
Then  she  waited  again  for  a  time. 

"  The  man's  extraordinary,"  she  said,  frowning. 
"  You  would  say  he  dreads  and  hates  me, —  no,  do 
not  interrupt."  She  stretched  a  hand.  "  I  have  done 
nothing  to  him  but  try  to  talk  a  little.  There  must 
be  more  in  it,  Uncle  Arthur.  My  informants  have 
left  out  something." 

"  If  your  informant  was  your  father,"  said  the 
Rector,  "  he  probably  has." 

Violet  shook  her  head.  "  Father  was  useless 
utterly.  Though  of  course  I  guessed  he  had  a  hand 
in  it,  that  night  he  wrote  to  you." 

"  He  was  a  principal  in  it,"  said  Mr.  Gibbs.  "  But 
I  know  all  the  story.  The  man  really  is  not  fitted 
for  my  daughter,  I  can  say  it  without  scruple  or 
snobbishness.  He  is  a  trifle  ill-balanced,  I  believe, 
—  or  rather,  Ashwin  believes,  who  must  know  best. 
There  is  certain  evidence  for  it." 

Violet  still  frowned  at  him.     "  Oh,  I  hope  not," 


FOREIGN  ADMINISTRATIONS       307 

she  breathed.  "  You  see,  I  wish  him  to  marry  some- 
body —  not  Margery  —  very  much.  He  was  once 
very  nearly  engaged  to  her.  Shall  I  tell  you  all  I 
know,  Uncle  Arthur^    I  will  not  ask  for  yours." 

"  No,"  said  the  Rector,  after  a  minute  of  re- 
flection.    "  We  will  share." 

"Oh  I"  Violet  beamed  at  him.  "  One  for  the 
doctor,  that  is,  isn't  it?  I  will  tell  him  that  when  I 
write."  Then  she  grew  serious  again.  "  It  is  my 
dear  friend,  Miss  Eccles,  who  is  in  question,"  she 
said.  "  I  have  simply  not  dared,  so  far,  to  mention 
her  to  Peacock,  because  she  was  the  unconscious 
origin  of  the  trouble  before." 

"  Do  not  mention  it  then,  I  charge  you,  my  child," 
said  the  Rector,  moving  to  her  side.  "  I  thank 
Heaven  you  have  not  tried,  at  least  alone.  I  could 
never  forgive  myself  if  you  suffered." 

"  Entendu^''  said  Violet,  and  passed  him  her 
hand.  "But  why  does  he  dislike  me?  I  tried  to 
be  nice  about  his  flowers,  and  he  really  cares  for 
them." 

"  The  man's  a  born  horticulturist, —  Heaven- 
made,"  said  Mr.  Gibbs,  gazing  upon  his  precious 
garden  with  sad  eyes,  as  he  held  her  fingers.  "  His 
head  is  level  enough  in  his  work."  Then  he  looked 
down  at  her.  "  He  connects  your  name,"  he  ex- 
plained, "  with  his  disgrace.  He  had  hoped  to  escape 
all  connection  with  old  history,  by  coming  here.    He 


3o8  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

suspects  probably  that  you  are  in  the  secret.  It's 
enough  to  exasperate  anybody,"  added  the  Rector 
pensively,  "  such  a  bit  of  rank  bad  luck  as  meeting 
you.    I  see  that." 

Violet  gazed  at  him.  "  Did  he  assassinate  any- 
body*? "  she  said  with  her  charming  dryness.  "  Tell 
me  the  worst." 

So  Mr.  Gibbs  told  her,  watching  his  words,  and 
she  listened,  her  widened  eyes  fixed  sidelong  on  his 
face.  The  shock  had  been  broken  already,  of  course, 
by  Alice's  hints,  and  her  own  conjectures;  but  her 
head  collapsed  into  her  hands  before  the  end.  She 
did  not  attempt  to  conceal  her  dazed  horror  at  the 
complication.  She  only  emerged  from  her  hands  to 
admit,  with  a  frank  look  at  her  uncle,  that  it  was 
quite  too  much  for  her. 

"  I  might  have  known,"  she  added,  "  if  you  and 
Father  both  stuck,  I  could  not  add  much  to  it.  How 
appalling, —  and  sad.    Oh  dear  I  " 

"  Don't  give  way,"  said  the  Rector,  half  laughing 
and  half  anxious.  "  There  is  always  the  woman's 
contribution,  you  know,  the  widow's  mite,  which 
neither  Father  nor  I  can  supply.  What  offers  now, 
my  lady, —  come  I  " 

"  There's  only  one  thing  I  can  offer,"  said  Violet, 
after  prolonged  thought.  "  It  is  this  —  he  can't 
possibly  marry  anyone  but  Alice,  can  he*?  " 

"  I  trust  not.     But  why?  " 


FOREIGN  ADMINISTRATIONS       309 

"  Why,  it's  against  reason,"  said  Violet  pettishly. 
"  Kill  yourself  for  one  girl  and  marry  another^  He 
must  be  philandering  with  Margery  simply  out  of 
bravado,  and  to  make  his  own  girl  jealous.  The 
crudest  sort  of  savage  has  brains  enough  for  that." 

"  Humph,"  said  Mr.  Gibbs.  He  had  got  the 
woman's  contribution  certainly.  It  seemed  to  hold 
water  too,  on  investigation,  though  startling  from 
such  a  quarter.  He  set  his  lips  oddly,  and  looked 
upon  his  niece. 

"  Since  when  have  you  understood  the  crudest  sort 
of  savage,  Miss  Violet^  "  he  said. 

"  Oh,  lately,"  said  Violet,  faintly  blushing. 
"  Study  of  Mr.  Peacock  helps,  of  course.  But  I  had 
not  expected  that  part  of  the  work,  you  know.  I 
had  hoped  to  leave  that  to  Charles."  Still  blushing, 
she  lifted  her  eyes  to  Mr.  Gibbs.  "  I  do  want 
Charles'  assistance,  really.  I  wish  I  knew  where  he 
was.  If  you  do  find  out,  I  wish  you  would  tell  him 
that  I  miss  him  dreadfully, —  at  every  turn.  I  don't 
know  why  —  you  will  not  understand  —  but  I  had 
especially  counted  on  his  assistance  in  this  under- 
taking." 

"  An  excellent  courage,"  thought  the  Rector. 
"  But  they  all  have  that.  You  value  Charles,"  he 
said  thoughtfully,  aloud.  "  Do  you  think,  Violet, 
we  undervalue  him?" 

"  No,  no,  I  believe  you  do  not.    As  for  her  —  for 


310  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

Aunt  Henrietta  —  I  shall  have  to  see."  She  laid 
her  fingers  carelessly  to  her  cheek,  produced  a  letter, 
and  unfolded  it.  Then  she  rose  suddenly, —  as 
though  on  springs.  "  No,  I  must  get  up,"  she  said 
at  his  protest.  "  I  must  sit  at  a  table  to  show  you. 
The  other  was  sentiment  and  sympathy,  wasn't  it? 
This  part  is  Business.     Wait." 

He  watched  her,  while  she  seated  herself  with 
dainty  precision,  and  spread  out  two  sheets  of  her 
long  letter  before  her.  He  wondered  if  she  were 
going  to  tell  him  that  she  and  Charles  were  engaged. 
He  was  quite  prepared,  with  the  humiliation  of  his 
recent  shock,  for  that.  Her  tenderness  towards  the 
boy  was  undoubted,  for  he  had  marked  the  quality 
of  that  blush.  It  was  the  loveliest  kind, —  the 
earliest.  He  had  suspected  as  much  before,  yet  he 
hardly  thought  she  was  aware  herself  at  present. 
All  the  Rector's  mind  was  set  on  making  things 
easier  for  her,  and  not  seeking  to  force  nature's  own 
sweet  ways. 

"  What  is  it,  this  mighty  matter*?  "  he  enquired, 
putting  an  arm  about  her  as  she  sat.  "  Business  is 
scarcely  your  province,  young  lady,  I  think." 

"  You  are  wrong,  then,"  said  Violet  haughtily. 
"  My  own  business  at  Battersea  is  spreading.  We 
have  taken  an  extra  room,  and  Father  has  audited 
our  Balance-sheet.  He  says  we  are  solid, —  there  I 
Now  perhaps  you  will   attend  to  me,   about   the 


FOREIGN  ADxMINISTRATIONS       311 

matter  of  Charles.  .  .  .  You  see,  my  friend 
Mr.  Warden  has  a  vacancy, —  he  gives  me  all  the 
details  here.  He  has  met  Charles  and  approved  him. 
He  thinks  he  could  establish  him  in  life,  if  he  is 
willing, —  and  you  (plural  you)  —  and  I." 

"  Singular  you^  "  said  Mr.  Gibbs. 

"  I  am  afraid,"  said  Violet,  "  Aunt  Henrietta  will 
think  us  rather  foolish,  but  Mr.  Warden  demands 
my  recommendation  for  Charles.  He  exacts  it.  He 
says  he  has  his  reasons.  What  he  means  by  that  I 
don't  suggest,  except  to  say  he  is  a  sentimental  old 
gentleman.  I  had  already  mentioned  the  document 
needed  notes.  .  .  .  Uncle  Arthur,  that  is  not 
Business,  really  I  " 

"  It  was  merely  a  note,"  said  Mr.  Gibbs. 

"  Will  you  read  it,  and  tell  me  whether,  judging 
by  your  knowledge  of  Charles'  mother,  she  will 
reject  it  with  contumely,  or  otherwise?  I  hardly 
dared  approach  her,  till  I  had  approached  you 
first." 

Mr.  Gibbs  took  the  letter-pages  from  her  hands, 
and  read  them.  Till  he  read,  he  had  barely  taken  it 
seriously,  but  he  saw  that  it  was  serious  enough. 
It  was  also  evidently  written  for  other  eyes  than 
Violet's,  and  very  concisely  and  cautiously  expressed. 
In  his  many  musings  on  the  subject,  he  had  even 
arrived  at  the  consideration  of  exactly  this  kind  of 
post,  as  the  ideal  for  his  vacillating  young  dog  of  a 


312  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

stepson.  It  was  really  a  Heaven-sent  opportunity. 
He  could  picture  his  wife's  excitement  and  relief. 

"  Of  course  I  don't  follow'all  he  means  about  the 
money,"  said  Violet,  "  I  know  Father  had  to  make 
a  silver  path  for  me:  so  I  have  no  doubt  somebody 
would  have  to  make  a  gold  one  for  Charles  —  since 
men  are  more  expensive.  Who,  I  cannot  imagine  — 
unless  you.  Have  the  peas  paid  you  well,  this 
season,  Uncle  Arthur  *?" 

They  chaffed  over  that  a  little  more,  and  then 
Violet  returned  to  her  large  chair  again:  for  her 
uncle  evidently  meant  to  keep  the  letter  for  the 
moment. 

"And  you  can  recommend  him^  "  he  said  pres- 
ently, from  a  distance.  "  That  is  clearly  an  essential 
as  you  say." 

"  Confidently,"  said  Violet.  "  Charles  is  just  the 
kind  of  person  Mr.  Warden  needs  about.  He  is 
much  the  same  type,  you  know.  When  Charles  has 
stopped  being  a  baby,  he  will  become  a  delightful 
old  man." 

"Nothing  between?"  said  the  Rector. 

"  Nothing,  I  fear.  A  first  and  second  childhood, 
that  is  all." 

Mr.  Gibbs  walked  about  a  little  more,  folding  the 
sheets  up  very  small  while  he  reflected.  Then  he 
threw  them  at  Violet,  and  said : 

"  Go  and  talk  to  your  aunt.    It  will  take  a  load 


FOREIGN  ADMINISTRATIONS       313 

from  her  mind  if  you  bring  it  off.  I  had  intended 
to  give  him  two  hundred  a  year,  the  same  as  his 
sisters  will  have,  from  Christmas  next.  An  advance 
presents  no  difficulty,  and  he  has  something  of  his 
own.    Get  along  with  you :  and  mention  that." 

"  Must  I  go?  "  said  Violet.  "  Between  ourselves, 
I  am  still  rather  nervous  of  your  wife  at  intervals. 
It  is  stupid,  but  —  it  is  an  interval  now.  .  .  . 
Don't  you  think,  if  I  wait  a  little,  the  chances  are 
she  will  come  in  here?  " 

"  The  chances  may  be,"  said  he  half  smiling.  In 
these  gusts  of  shyness,  he  thought,  she  was  so  like 
Claude, —  that  young  Claude  he  had  once  known. 

"  Stay  where  you  are  then,  and  don't  chatter,"  he 
directed  her.  "  Because  I  am  going  to  haul  out 
several  strong  boxes,  in  order  to  revise  my  will." 

"  You  can't  without  a  lawyer,"  said  Violet,  shut- 
ting her  eyes.  "  However,  never  mind.  I  suppose 
you  are  like  Father  in  trying,  with  an  enormous 
waste  of  labour,  to  dispense  with  the  professional, 
who  exists  for  the  sole  purpose  of  helping  you," 

Her  voice  was  drowsy,  and  her  uncle  told  her  to 
go  to  sleep.  She  did  sleep  intermittently,  thinking 
now  about  Peacock,  now  about  Margery,  and  now 
about  Charles.  Mr.  Gibbs  nearly  forgot  her,  since 
her  slight  form  was  obscured  by  the  spreading  back 
of  the  enormous  chair:  nearly  forgot,  but  not  com- 
pletely.    There  was  a  certain  presence  in  the  room 


314  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

which  he  never  felt  unless  she  or  Claude  were  about. 
It  was  an  inspiring  presence,  and  favourable  to  good 
work,  so  he  worked  very  hard  at  his  various  occupa- 
tions for  two  hours  at  least. 

Then  his  wife  —  his  present  wife  —  startled  him 
by  entering  suddenly.  Her  movements  were  always 
breezy,  of  the  disturbing  quality,  for  she  had  been 
used  to  stimulating  her  world,  even  by  her  passage 
through  it.     She  was  holding  a  letter-sheet. 

"  Arthur,"  she  said,  in  a  tone  familiar  to  his  ears 
of  suppressed  and  sharp-edged  worry.  "  I  am  afraid 
there  is  no  doubt  of  it.  Lois  ought  to  have  taken 
my  advice  at  once,  and  got  rid  of  that  girl.  She 
is  at  the  bottom  of  the  mischief.    Charles " 

"  Henrietta  I  "  He  inserted  her  name,  not  loud, 
but  keenly.  She  started,  stopped,  and  turned. 
Violet  was  gazing  at  them.  The  dart  had  sped  true 
through  the  twilight  veil  of  slumber  that  had  en- 
closed her.  Horror,  the  sheer  panic  of  a  woodland 
creature  entrapped,  was  in  her  eyes.  A  minute 
passed,  a  miserable  minute  for  the  Rector,  and  yet 
more  so  for  his  wife,  who  had  been  perfectly  unaware 
of  the  girl's  presence  in  the  room.  Then  Mrs.  Gibbs 
opened  her  mouth  and  made  a  movement :  but  Miss 
Ashwin  was  before  her.  She  arose,  springing  neatly 
erect  in  her  manner,  and  blinking  the  sleep  from 
her  eyes,  came  across. 

"  Oh,  Aunt  Henrietta,"  she  said,  in  her  sweetest 


FOREIGN  ADMINISTRATIONS       315 

drawing-room  intonation.  "  I  mn  so  sorry  about  it. 
I  hope  it  is  not  true.     Poor  Charles  I  " 

"  Catch  her,"  said  Mr.  Gibbs :  but  it  was  too  late, 
for  the  "  elf  "  appeared.  She  fled  like  a  spirit  from 
the  room,  and  he  sank,  with  a  slight  groan,  into  his 
chair  again. 

"  Oh,  Arthur,"  said  Mrs.  Gibbs,  "  how  unfortu- 
nate I    Of  course,  I  thought  you  were  alone." 

"  Don't  apologise,  my  dear,"  he  answered.  "  I 
was  to  blame  as  well.  I  could  have  stopped  you 
sooner  if  I  had  had  any  sense.  My  senses  were 
wandering  as  usual.     Good  heavens  I  " 

"  I  had  no  notion,"  she  said,  aggrieved,  "  you 
would  have  kept  her  all  this  time." 

"  It  was  partly  to  tell  you  something  she  stayed, 
—  some  news.  She  was  waiting  for  you  to  come  — 
the  blessing."  His  brow  was  in  his  hand.  His  wife 
saw  his  distress,  but  still  thought  only  of  protesta- 
tion and  self-defence. 

"  I  should  never  have  worded  it  like  that,"  she 
insisted.    "  Of  course  I  know  she  cares  for  her." 

"  And  him,"  said  the  Rector.  "  She  loves  him. 
It  was  a  double  stroke." 

"  What'? "  said  Mrs.  Gibbs,  struck  helpless. 
"  Cares  for  Charles?  Violet*?  —  You  don't  say  so!  " 


EXIT    PEACOCK 

The  evidence  on  which  Mrs.  Gibbs  judged  her  son 
was  a  very  hasty  scrambled  letter  from  a  hotel 
address.  It  said  several  things,  among  others  that 
life  was  not  worth  living,  and  he  was  unable  to 
write  to  Miss  Ashwin.  It  also  said  he  could  by  no 
means  come  home  until  he  knew  his  fate,  that  his 
whole  happiness  for  life  was  in  question,  and  that 
his  mother  was  not  to  be  anxious  about  him.  The 
present  address  would  not  find  him  after  the  follow- 
ing day,  so  she  was  not  to  attempt  to  communicate, 
far  less  to  see  him,  or  send  him  money.  She  was 
never  to  send  him  money  again,  as  he  intended  hence- 
forth to  live  on  his  means,  and  work.  He  wished 
her  to  send  a  card  to  a  certain  post  office,  contain- 
ing two  addresses, —  unspeakably  important.  One 
was  that  of  a  former  German  tutor  of  his  in  the 
metropolis,  the  other  the  present  address  of  that 
dressmaker  woman  Miss  Lennox.  The  people  at  her 
place  at  Battersea,  said  Charles,  did  not  seem  to 
know  it,  though  he  had  been  there  twice  about  the 
matter;  and  he  must  find  it,  soon.    Would  she  tell 


FOREIGN  ADMINISTRATIONS       317 

Miss  Ashwin,  most  particularly,  nothing  about  these 
requests. 

The  manly  guile  of  this  communication,  as  has 
been  seen,  did  not  deceive  Mrs.  Gibbs  for  a  moment. 
Why  should  Charles  want  her  friend's  address'? 
Why  had  he  been  to  Battersea  twice,  since  once 
would  have  assured  him  of  Violet's  absence^  Whom 
—  but  one  —  could  he  have  found  on  those  premises 
if  he  went?  If  the  young  woman  had  refused  her 
address,  so  much  the  better;  but  it  made  it  the 
more  probable  Charles  was  following  her.  He  was 
probably  doing  nothing  else,  nor  had  done  since  his 
mother  last  beheld  him.  Mrs.  Gibbs  had  the  ad- 
vantage of  having  seen  Alice  once  at  the  Lennox 
establishment,  when  Lois  besought  her  assistance  at 
a  crisis  with  the  girl;  and  once  had  been  quite 
enough,  for  a  person  of  any  discernment,  Mrs, 
Gibbs  had  even  told  Lois  that,  mark  her  words,  she 
would  have  trouble  with  that  girl  before  she  had 
done.  Why,  last  of  all,  did  Charles,  having  success- 
fully accustomed  his  tongue  to  Violet's  first  name, 
turn  again  to  the  formal  Miss  Ashwin? 

Of  course,  in  the  light  of  Arthur's  addition  to  the 
case,  Mrs.  Gibbs  answered  the  last  question  easily. 
Charles  had  raised  Violet's  expectations,  as  careless 
men  will  do;  and  now,  having  wounded  her,  was 
ashamed  of  himself.  Mrs.  Gibbs  had  no  more  idea 
than  her  husband  at  what  stage  of  things  the  young 


3i8  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

pair  were,  but  she  could  not  but  remember  the 
regularity  and  constancy  of  their  correspondence. 
Charles  had  left  nobody,  who  had  patience  to  listen 
to  him,  in  ignorance  as  to  that.  She  feared  to  ques- 
tion Violet, —  it  was  altogether  too  delicate  an  affair 
for  her  to  touch ;  but  she  saw  the  misery  of  the  child, 
proudly  concealed  as  it  was;  and  being  a  woman  of 
fine  honour  herself,  felt  absolutely  humiliated  be- 
fore her.  And  she  was  brought  still  lower  when  the 
proposed  situation  for  Charles,  an  excellent  and  solid 
advantage,  resisting  every  test  against  the  visionary, 
was  laid  before  her  eyes  by  Mr.  Gibbs. 

She  did  not,  however,  for  all  her  wrath,  fail  in  her 
duty  towards  her  son,  and  his  future.  That  stood 
first,  as  always.  She  gave  Charles  neither  of  the 
addresses  he  asked  for;  but  she  sent  him  a  resume  of 
Lucas  Warden's  offer,  and  bade  him,  if  he  wanted 
work,  and  had  still  any  regard  for  their  feelings,  to 
call  on  Mr.  Warden  at  such  an  hour,  at  his  office. 
She  told  him  his  stepfather  would  stand  his  suret}^ 
and  remained  his  friend.  She  did  not  mention  Violet 
by  name,  but  when  the  short  and  very  adroit  letter 
to  her  son  was  completed,  she  brought  it  to  the  girl 
in  her  room,  and  laid  it  before  her  mutely.  Violet 
read,  and  returned  it  with  a  smile. 

"  Is  there  any  word  you  would  like  changed?  " 
said  Mrs.  Gibbs,  in  a  voice  hard  with  suppressed 
emotion,  and  offended  pride. 


FOREIGN  ADMINISTRATIONS       319 

"  It  is  good,  and  clever,"  said  Violet  slowly.  "  I 
always  really  knew  you  were  both  —  since  the  first 
day  I  saw  you,  in  a  hayiield  by  the  river.  Do  you 
remember  that?  " 

"  Did  you  care  for  him  then*?  "  said  Mrs.  Gibbs. 

"  Well,  could  anyone  help  it? "  said  Violet. 
"  He  told  me  so  touchingly,"  she  added,  looking 
down,  "  all  about  it,  and  how  little  you  appreciated 
him." 

"  Did  you  believe  it?  "  said  Mrs.  Gibbs. 

"  Then  I  did,  I  am  afraid.  Not  after  Uncle 
Arthur  decided  to  marry  you.  You  see,  I  can't  help 
believing  he  knows  better  than  Charles.  And 
Charles  himself  knows  better  than  that,"  she  added 
lightly. 

"  He  makes  it  hard  for  one  to  believe  it,"  said 
Mrs.  Gibbs,  and  turned  away.  She  had  no  wish  for 
this  very  "  nervy  "  girl  to  see  her  crying,  and  she  was 
very  proud  of  her  self-control.  But  she  could  have 
cursed  Charles  —  or  perhaps  boxed  his  ears  —  for 
the  fool  he  was.  She  did  neither, —  she  only  signed 
herself  with  affection,  a  trifle  more  than  she  had 
intended,  stamped  and  addressed  the  communica- 
tion firmly,  and  carried  it  in  her  own  hands  to  the 
post. 

A  couple  of  days  dragged  by  in  sufficient  depres- 
sion, nobody  in  spirits  to  suggest  any  amusement, 


320  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

though  the  weather  was  charming;  and  nobody 
among  all  the  Rectory  inmates  acting  at  all  well, 
but  Violet  and  Mr.  Gibbs.  Then  a  faint  ray  of  light 
shot  upon  their  dulness  in  the  form  of  a  new  line 
from  Charles,  very  proud  and  formal  and  foolish, 
but  thanking  his  mother,  saying  he  would  consider 
her  suggestion, —  and  would  she  have  the  kindness 
to  send  him  various  things,  in  accordance  with  a  list. 

It  need  not  be  added  that  the  contemplation  of 
this  list, —  most  absurd  and  masculine  in  character, 
leaving  out  half  the  things  that  in  any  kind  of  life, 
bachelor  or  otherwise,  he  was  bound  to  need, —  and 
the  instant  satisfaction  of  these  natural  wants,  by 
the  most  simple  means,  relieved  his  mother's  heart 
more  than  the  composing  of  countless  clever  letters 
could  have  done.  It  consoled  all  the  foolish  females 
of  the  Rectory  circle,  to  an  extent  that  surprised  the 
Rector.  Mrs.  Gibbs,  with  Maud's  skilled  assistance, 
made  up  the  parcel,  and  once  more  carried  it  all  the 
way  to  the  post  herself.  She  promised  Maud,  since 
it  was  heavy,  to  look  for  Peacock  to  take  it  down; 
but  excused  herself  later  to  her  stepdaughters  by 
explaining  that  she  had  looked,  but  could  not  see 
Peacock  anywhere  about  the  place. 

The  same  evening  she  told  the  Rector  after  dinner, 
—  Margery  being  shut  safely  in  her  room  at  work, 
and  Violet  on  the  sofa  with  a  book, —  that  she  had 
come  to  the  conclusion  he  ought  to  dismiss  the  man. 


FOREIGN  ADMINISTRATIONS      321 

"  Convince  me  of  it  and  I  will,"  said  Mr.  Gibbs. 
"  I  should  warn  you  he  has  nailed  back  the  creepers 
faultlessly." 

Mrs.  Gibbs,  who  never  spoke  without  solid  reasons 
for  speaking,  especially  in  cases  where  prejudices 
might  be  presumed  to  exist,  produced  a  rather  start- 
ling piece  of  evidence.  She  had  been  by  chance, 
she  said,  at  the  Glasswell  post  office  that  afternoon, 
just  before  post  time.  She  had  noticed,  lying  upon 
the  counter  of  the  shop,  a  box.  It  had  the  look  of  a 
common  shoe-box,  but  it  was  marked  carefully, 
"  Flowers."  It  was  also  carefully  fastened  and 
addressed,  in  the  same  large,  rather  illiterate  hand. 
The  address  upon  the  box  was  that  of  a  Mrs.  Eccles, 
at  Brixton, —  (Violet  looked  up), —  and  the  post- 
master's wife,  on  Mrs.  Gibbs'  acute  enquiry,  admitted 
that  Mr.  Gibbs'  gardener  had  brought  it  down.  He 
seemed  in  a  hurry,  she  added.  Mrs.  Gibbs  had 
made  no  fuss  about  the  box  being  despatched,  be- 
cause she  thought  —  wiser  not. 

"  Infinitely  wiser,"  said  the  Rector.  "  Especially 
since  the  contents  were  described  so  conveniently 
upon  the  lid.    Had  the  thing  occurred  before*?  " 

Never  before.  The  woman  seemed  surprised 
about  it. 

"Suspicions'?"  said  the  Rector. 

Not  the  least  suspicious,  no.  Being  Mr.  Peacock, 
the  postmaster's  wife  was  sure  it  was  all  right. 


322  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

"  There  you  are,"  said  the  Rector.  "  I  wish  I 
owned  an  appearance  like  that.  If  I  summonsed 
him  the  whole  country-side  would  be  down  on  me 
for  libel  and  injustice.  He  has  an  extraordinary 
position,  socially  speaking,  in  the  neighbourhood: 
and  Shepherd  is  particularly  keen  on  him.  But  I 
knew,"  he  added,  "  that  I  was  being  systematically 
robbed." 

"  Arthur  I     Since  when*?  " 

"  Since  yesterday  morning, —  wasn't  it?  It's  one 
of  the  scraps  of  light  I  owe  to  Violet." 

Then,  of  course,  Mrs.  Gibbs  had  to  be  enlightened 
too,  and  most  thoroughly  enlightened,  for  she  let 
no  one  off.  She  gazed  from  face  to  face  in  helpless 
indignation  and  perplexity. 

"  And  you  have  known  of  these  crimes,"  she  said 
severely,  "  both  of  you,  for  two  days  at  least,  some 
of  them  for  weeks,  months  past,  and  have  not 
sent  him  packing  instantly?  Why,  good  gracious, 
Arthur,  anyone  but  you  would  have  been  glad  of 
the  excuse  I  " 

"  Poor  Uncle  Arthur,"  Violet  murmured  to  her 
book.    "  Three  prizes, —  the  first  year." 

"  Have  him  up,"  said  the  Rector  dejectedly,  ad- 
dressing Mrs.  Gibbs,  "  and  have  it  out.  But  if  the 
youngest  of  my  family  goes  after  him,  don't  blame 
me." 

Mrs.  Gibbs  reproached  him  for  jesting  on  serious 


FOREIGN  ADMINISTRATIONS      323 

subjects,  and  Mr.  Gibbs  replied  that  where  every- 
thing was  equally  serious,  one  had  better  jest,  or  be 
direct, —  it  came  to  the  same  thing.  Violet  looked 
at  him  over  the  back  of  the  book,  and  nodded;  but 
she  rose  and  left  the  room  soon  after,  mentioning 
that  she  would  detain  Margery  upstairs.  The  fact 
was,  she  did  not  want  to  face  the  man  again  so  soon. 

She  need  not  have  troubled.  No  search  in  cottage, 
house  or  grounds  discovered  Peacock.  He  had  saved 
his  kind-hearted  employers  the  pain  of  dismissing 
him  by  dismissing  himself.  On  close  enquiry,  and 
at  the  cost  of  considerable  pains,  Mr.  Gibbs  found 
that  his  appearance  at  the  post  office  that  afternoon 
had  been  his  last  appearance  at  Glasswell.  How 
he  had  gone,  and  whither,  the  Rector's  wife  spent 
her  energy  and  ingenuity  in  vain  to  discover. 

"  If  you  ask  me,"  said  the  Rector,  when  the 
search-party,  including  the  intelligent  retriever  dog, 
reunited  in  the  study,  and  the  leader  of  it  sank 
exhausted  into  his  leather  chair,  "  I  should  say  he 
went  in  somebody  else's  motor-car.  He  is  evidently 
above  all  laws.  Most  probably,"  added  Mr.  Gibbs, 
turning  absent  and  gazing  at  the  dog,  "  most  prob- 
ably a  rustic  deity.    What  do  )^ou  say,  Erasmus*?  " 

"  Arthur,  do  be  practical,"  said  Mrs.  Gibbs,  who 
was  holding  a  railway  guide.  She  had  already 
explained  to  him  that  they  owed  money  to  Peacock. 

"  I  tell  you,  my  dear,  it's  constantly  happening  in 


324  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

books  nowadays.  It's  the  commonest  thing  in  the 
world.  I've  more  than  once  had  a  suspicion  this 
summer  that  Something  was  about  the  place.  You 
ought  to  see  the  way  things  grow  when  he  looks  at 
them.  Besides,  there's  Margery  —  and  Erasmus 
there  —  and  Claude.  Hang  it  all,  he  put  Claude 
out  in  conversation,  that  must  mean  something  out 
of  the  ordinary.  I  am  beginning  to  be  convinced  — 
well,  Violet?" 

"  Please  excuse  my  appearance,"  said  Violet,  just 
to  warn  them :  and  it  was  necessary. 

She  had  appeared,  or  materialised  in  her  manner, 
from  the  upper  quarters  of  the  house :  and,  while  her 
uncle  was  speaking,  had  slipped  round  the  door. 
She  had  not  descended  during  the  interval  of  the 
search  for  Peacock,  having  pressing  engagements  of 
her  own  above,  though  she  had  heard  about  the 
matter  through  Maud.  Violet  herself  had  been  in 
seclusion  with  Margery, —  very  much  in  seclusion  as 
was  evident.  Her  dark  hair,  lately  brushed,  was 
parted  and  tied  back  loosely,  drooping  a  little  more 
than  its  custom  was,  about  her  face;  and  she  was 
"  clothed  in  white  samite," —  or  in  something  her 
uncle  thought  must  approach  to  it, —  mystic  and 
wonderful  beyond  a  doubt,  but  certainly  a  trifle 
unconventional  as  well.  Both  the  Rector  and  his 
wife  fixed  her  with  attention  and  amusement,  for 
she  was  clearly  strung  high  in  her  manner,  and  her 


FOREIGN  ADMINISTRATIONS       325 

eyes,  glimmering  star-like  in.  her  pale  face,  promised 
a  new  discovery. 

It  had  occurred  to  Violet,  so  she  explained  to  the 
world,  that  in  the  matter  of  Peacock,  Margery  might 
know  something,  if  one  could  anyhow  manage  to  get 
hold  of  it. 

"  And  one  did*?  "  said  Mr.  Gibbs. 

"  This,"  said  Violet,  extending  a  scrap  of  paper. 
Margery  found  it  this  afternoon,  tucked  into  a  corner 
of  her  portfolio,  which  she  had  left  on  the  garden 
seat.  Margery  would  not  come  down  herself, — 
being  tired, —  but  Violet,  after  certain  persuasions 
which  had  lasted  the  entire  length  of  hairdressing, 
had  been  allowed  to  bring  it  for  the  family's  en- 
lightenment. 

"  It  is  too  touching,"  she  added  earnestly. 

The  Rector  took  the  scrap,  his  comical  brows  set, 
arranged  his  spectacles  upon  his  nose,  and  spread 
the  communication  on  the  table  by  the  lamp  to 
decipher  at  ease.  It  was  not  ill-written,  betraying 
the  man's  turn  for  order  and  cleanliness  in  all  he 
attempted.  Mr.  Gibbs  read  it  in  his  most  impressive 
tone  aloud,  his  niece  and  his  daughter  leaning  over, 
to  either  side. 

"  Miss  Gibbs, 

"  This  with  my  respects  to  you  and   family 
and  with  thanks  for  kind  treatment  which  is  not 


326  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

why  I  go.  ('  I  am  glad  of  that,'  said  the  Rector.) 
I  meant  to  speak  to  yr  Father  about  my  trouble 
which  is  wearing  me,  and  then  to  you  Miss,  but 
words  failed  me  short.  ('So  they  invariably  did, 
poor  fellow,'  said  the  Rector.)  Church  nor  absence 
has  done  me  any  good  from  her  as  I  hope  you 
understand.  ('I  hope  Margery  understood,'  said 
the  Rector.  '  It's  as  clear  as  daylight,'  said  Violet. 
'  Only  a  word  left  out.')  I  hope  to  be  at  Park 
Flower  Show  Tuesday  week.  ('Is  that  a  rendez- 
vous'? '  said  the  Rector.  '  An  insurmountable  en- 
thusiasm,' said  Violet.  *  Do  stop  talking  and  finish 
it,'  said  Mrs.  Gibbs.)  One  of  the  smaller  pictures 
would  be  an  agreeable  keepsake — (a  gale  of 
laughter  from  the  family :  '  Oh,  hush,'  with  an 
anxious  frown,  from  Violet)  —  which  knowing  your 
goodness  Miss  I  have  slipped  out.  Mr.  Gibbs  should 
know  as  I  have  nipped  those  winter  pots  steady  — 
('  Nipped?  '  said  Mrs.  Gibbs  suspiciously.  '  That's 
all  right,'  said  the  Rector.)  —  to  keep  back  some  for 
late  which  I  have  Chalked. 

"  Respectfully  yours  ever, 
"Abel  Vane-Peacock." 

"  I  suppose  the  end  is  as  luminous  to  Uncle 
Arthur,"  said  Violet,  "  as  the  first  part  is  to  Maud 
and  me.  I  am  certain  Peacock  nipped  and  slipped 
honestly,  whatever  he  nipped  and  slipped,  and  is  a 


FOREIGN  ADMINISTRATIONS      327 

much  injured  man.  I  have  seldom  felt  so  certain 
of  anything." 

"  Indeed,"  said  the  Rector.  "  And  what  does 
Margery  feel  ?  " 

"  Well,  at  least,  Papa,"  Maud  spoke  up  in  turn, 
"  she  sends  this  down  to  you." 

"  To  be  laughed  at,"  appended  Violet  tragically. 
"  Perfectly  heroic,  I  thought  it,  and  I  told  her  so." 
She  put  an  arm  around  Maud,  to  encourage  her  to 
resistance. 

"  She  will  be  happier  now,"  said  Maud,  blushing. 
"  I  told  her  she  only  needed  to  confess  to  herself 
quite  alone,  and  have  things  clear.  She  has  never 
got  things  clear.  That  was  why  she  had  Violet's 
room,  and  Violet  came  to  me." 

"What^"  cried  the  mistress  of  the  house. 

"  Keep  these  matters  to  yourselves,  my  maidens, 
I  advise,"  said  the  Rector.  "  Speak  them  not  to 
the  profane.  They  are  far  beyond  me,  anyhow. 
You  are  welcome  to  make  a  ring  about  Margery, 
to  lecture  and  manage  her  to  your  blessed  hearts' 
content,  and  flutter  about  in  your  silk  sacks  by 
night " 

"  Sacks,  indeed !  "  said  his  daughter,  really  moved. 
"  How  can  you.  Papa !  A  lovely  thing  like  this, 
which  she  made  with  her  own  hands!  You  don't 
deserve  to  have  it  under  your  eyes." 

"I  do,  I  do,"  said  the  Reclftr.     "It  is  my  avun- 


328  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

cular  perquisites.  I  am  onlyijDeing  thankful  no 
younger  gentleman  is  about  to  dispute  the  privilege." 

"  Oh,  but  of  course "  began  Violet,  horri- 
fied: then  caught  his  eye,  and  dissolved  into  space, 
according  to  her  late  habit,  suddenly. 

"  Violet  has  no  business  to  give  up  her  room,"  said 
Mrs.  Gibbs,  when  she  had  vanished.  "  I  wonder  you 
allowed  it,  Maud.  I  don't  know  what  her  father 
would  think  of  us,  if  he  knew.  He  asked  for  her  to 
be  quiet,  particularly." 

"  I  am  sorry,  Mamma,"  said  Maud,  lifting  her 
chin.  "  I  would  not  have  deceived  you  unless  it  had 
been  necessary.  But  to  be  wished  out  of  the  way 
continually,  by  my  only  sister,  for  weeks  together, 
was  more  than  I  could  bear.  I  have  prayed  for 
patience,  and  so  I  daresay  has  she, —  but  we  certainly 
should  have  quarrelled  soon.  Violet  and  I  had  the 
idea  at  exactly  the  same  minute " 

"  Just  so,  donkey,"  said  her  father.    "  Go  to  bed." 

When  she  had  gone  in  her  turn,  Mrs.  Gibbs 
observed  that  perhaps  it  was  time  that  the  girls  had 
separate  rooms:  and  the  Rector  said  that  she  had 
anticipated  him. 


MISS  ASHWIN   IS  LAZY 

News  grew  worse  from  the  Bradings.  Lady  Brad- 
ing,  Dr.  Ashwin  wrote,  was  very  ill  as  well.  Her 
nerves  had  given  way,  too  soon,  under  the  prolonged 
strain,  during  which  her  courage  had  been  an  object 
of  admiration  to  all  her  surroundings.  Clouds 
settled  low  over  the  devoted  family.  The  letter 
the  doctor  sent  was  brief  by  necessity,  and  divided 
about  equally  between  Violet  and  her  uncle. 

"  That  poor  boy,"  said  the  Rector  gravely  over 
his  part.    "  Yes,  I  must  go  up." 

That  was  the  suggestion,  it  seemed,  the  letter 
contained. 

"  Are  there  no  other  children'?  "  said  Mrs.  Gibbs. 

"No:  he's  unique,  like  Violet;  and  he  adores  his 
mother.  Claude  says  they  could  not  have  done  with- 
out him  these  last  days, —  which  speaks  for  itself." 

The  young  people  were  silent,  respectful  before 
tragedy.  Violet's  brow  was  resting  on  her  hand, 
and  Margery,  rather  faded  and  worn,  was  gazing 
with  set  lips  out  upon  the  garden. 

"  Nothing  to  add.  Miss*? "  the  Rector  addressed 


330  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

his  niece,  seeing  the  sheet  she  held.  "  Professional 
details,  I  mean,  of  course." 

Violet  shook  her  head.  "  It's  all  very  private," 
she  said  quietly. 

"  I  retire,"  said  the  Rector:  and  soon  after,  did  so. 

Violet  remained  exaggeratedly  grave,  as  she 
patted  her  letters  together.  She  had  quite  a  little 
pile  of  them,  as  was  not  unusual;  for  her  father 
wrote  to  her  regularly,  as  well  as  other  less  important 
gentlemen  of  his  age,  and  various  girl-friends. 
Violet  kept  her  friends  on  paper,  howsoever  she  hid 
herself  in  life. 

After  breakfast  she  took  them  away  to  a  remote 
summer-house,  where  she  was  joined  after  an  in- 
terval by  Maud,  two  work-baskets,  and  Erasmus  the 
black  retriever,  who  was  getting  on  in  life,  and 
showed  a  marked  preference  for  Maud's  reposeful 
company. 

"  He  misses  Peacock,"  said  Maud,  introducing 
Erasmus,  "  I  washed  him  yesterday.  Do  you 
mind?" 

Violet,  absently  smiling  at  Erasmus,  did  not  mind. 
"  I  miss  Peacock  too,"  she  said.  "  I  am  sorry  to  tell 
you,  Maud,  that  the  earwigs  are  starting  again  in 
this  pavilion." 

"  Would  you  rather  sit  somewhere  else,  darling?  " 
said  Maud  anxiously. 


FOREIGN  ADMINISTRATIONS      331 

"  No,"  said  Violet.  "  Earwigs  are  as  nothing  to 
me,  now." 

This  certainly  suggested  dark  things  in  store. 
So  did  the  fact  that  she  sat  empty-handed,  and  did 
not  touch  her  work;  but  Maud  knew  her  too  well 
to  press  her.  She  prepared  her  own  work,  with 
competent  rapidity,  while  Erasmus  settled  on  Violet's 
feet  with  a  groan.  Then  Maud  threaded  a  needle, 
and  opened  the  conversation. 

"  To-morrow,"  said  Maud  briskly,  "  will  be  the 
crisis." 

"Which  crisis,  darling^"  said  Violet.  "There 
are  several." 

"  I  am  afraid  I  was  selfish,"  said  Maud.  "  Speak- 
ing of  Peacock  reminded  me.  I  was  thinking  of  ours. 
As  soon  as  I  set  eyes  on  that  letter,  I  said  to  myself 
—  well,  once  get  over  the  day  of  the  Flower  Show 
safely,  and  we  are  all  right.  You  may  have  noticed 
how  restless  she  is." 

"  Margery^  " 

"  Margery.  Well,  that  is  the  Flower  Show  im- 
pending. Did  you  happen  to  see  her  face  when 
Papa  offered  anybody  his  member's  ticket  for  it  last 
Saturday^  I  wanted  to  say, —  take  it,  child,  for 
goodness'  sake,  and  go  and  see  him  and  get  it  over. 
I  am  afraid,  Violet,  her  character  is  not  really 
strong." 

"  How  wonderfully  clever  you  are,  Maud,"  said 


332  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

Violet.  Maud  was  silent.  She  thought  at  times 
herself  that  she  was  not  so  dull  as  people  supposed; 
and  she  never  felt  so  sure  of  it  as  in  her  cousin's 
company. 

"  I  am  under  the  impression,"  said  Violet,  still 
vague,  "  that  your  Father  sent  the  ticket  away  to 
somebody," 

"He  sent  it  to  that  Miss  Eccles,"  said  Maud, 
*'  because  he  has  never  forgotten  that  remark  of 
yours  that  she  was  fond  of  flowers.  He  thought  it 
might  be  a  change,  he  said." 

"Oh  dear,  how  like  him,"  said  Violet.  "And 
what  a  wonderful  family  you  are." 

It  was  most  satisfactory  to  Maud's  ears  as  a  senti- 
ment, only  the  tone  was  "  sleep-walking,"  and  the 
real  Violet  was  evidently  miles  away.  Maud  knew 
that  she  might  be  allowed  to  approach  in  time,  if  she 
took  it  easily,  and  talked  of  her  own  affairs  mean- 
while. 

"  Of  course,  Margery  could  get  in  all  the  same 
for  five  shillings,"  said  Maud,  threading  her  second 
needle.  "  Or  possibly  half  a  crown.  I  do  trust, 
Violet,  it  will  be  all  right ;  but  at  this  stage  I  dare 
not  prompt  her.  I  incline  to  leave  it  to  nature.  I 
believe  her  better  self  is  slowly  coming  to  the  front." 

"  Erasmus,  love,"  said  Violet,  "  if  it  is  not  incon- 
veniencing 5^ou  too  greatly,  that  foot  is  asleep." 

"Kick  him,"   said  Maud  briefly.     "He  never 


FOREIGN  ADMINISTRATIONS       333 

understands  without.  Dear,"  she  added,  "  I  am 
afraid  you  are  bothered  to-day.  Don't  stop  in  here 
if  you  want  to  walk  about."  For  she  knew  Violet's 
mental  and  physical  habits,  and  how  they  reacted 
on  one  another. 

"  I  am  practising  Repose,"  said  Violet,  folding 
her  hands.  "  But  I  fear  I  shall  never  manage  it  as 
well  as  you,  Maud.  You  do  me  more  good  than  you 
know, —  even  the  way  you  do  your  hair  behind  is 
calming.  The  fact  is,"  she  proceeded  soon,  "  I  have 
had  troubling  news  from  the  outer  world  to-day.  I 
wish  Father  could  get  down  to  Dering.  I  do  wish 
it  frightfully.  Father  must  be  absolutely  on  the 
Rack." 

"Violet!  "  said  Maud,  appalled.  "Is  it  as  bad 
as  that?  " 

"  I  don't  want  you  to  think  me  high-strung  and 
sensational,"  said  Violet,  looking  both,  "  so  I  will 
offer  you  bits  out  of  Joan  Dering's  letter.  Joan  is 
not  a  girl  who  writes  unless  absolutely  driven  to  it. 
So  I  suspect  Bill  or  somebody  has  set  her  on  to  drag 
facts  out  of  me.  They  are  all  so  curious  about  our 
circumstances,  always." 

Maud  was  impressed  by  this  familiar  talk  of  a 
great  house.  She  was  also  gratified  that  such  people 
should  be  curious  about  the  Ashwins.  The  Ashwins 
really  were  a  very  remarkable  family,  and  Maud 
had  the  blood  in  her  veins. 


334  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

Violet's  comments  now  on  the  style  of  the  com- 
munication she  held  were  inclined  to  the  critical, 
and  evidently  Lady  Joan,  for  all  her  governesses, 
could  not  spell.  The  news,  however,  such  as  it  was, 
seemed  sinister;  and  it  made  Miss  Gibbs  especially 
sad  that  two  girls  of  eighteen  should  be  discussing 
such  things  in  their  correspondence.  Yet  Maud  was 
a  little  inquisitive  all  the  same,  and  rested  not  until 
she  had  had  a  fair  chance  at  the  whole  scandal,  both 
facts  and  insinuations. 

It  was  sufficiently  "  frightful,"  as  Violet  said, 
certainly,  since  it  concerned  an  aunt  of  Maud's  own. 
Aunt  Evie  was  also  of  course  Violet's  mother,  but 
it  was  hard  to  remember  it,  the  girl  spoke  of  her 
with  such  cool  detachment.  Aunt  Evie  was  letting  a 
French  Marquis  (of  all  people),  whom  she  destined 
in  open  drawing-room  converse  to  her  daughter, 
make  love  to  her  in  such  an  unguarded  fashion,  that 
the  schoolgirls  in  the  house  were  talking  about  it. 
That  much  was  certain,  whatever  else  was  not.  The 
"  whatever  else," —  what  Violet  herself  would  have 
called  the  "  sous-entendu^"" —  was  beyond  Maud  at 
five-and-twenty  altogether.  She  never  by  her  own 
choice  read  the  books  in  which  they  occurred.  She 
was  a  little  surprised  when  her  father  recommended 
her  such  books  occasionally,  and  had  really  in  private 
more  confidence  in  the  curate's  advice. 

Violet  followed  her  thoughts  with  perfect  ease, 


FOREIGN  ADMINISTRATIONS       335 

and  sedulously  respected  her  cousin's  taste  in  the 
"  bits  "  she  selected.  For  her  own  part,  her  father 
was  her  principal  anxiety.  Maud  was  in  no  per- 
plexity, at  least,  as  to  Violet's  feelings  towards  her 
father.  Having  something  of  the  same  kind  of  hero- 
worsl^  herself, —  for  all  the  Rector's  taste  in  books, 
—  she  was  able  to  meet  her  cousin  there  on  common 
ground. 

"  I  want  passionately  to  go  up  to  him,  at  inter- 
vals," said  Violet.  "  I  wonder  if  Aunt  Henrietta 
would  think  me  too  awful  if  I  did;  just  for  a  night, 
you  know,  darling,  to  learn  the  worst.  I  could  easily 
run  down  again  in  the  morning." 

Maud  looked  grave  over  the  project.  It  was  just 
in  Violet's  royal  style,  to  "  run "  up  and  down, 
journeys  of  sixty  miles.  Maud  could  never  take  the 
easy  point  of  view  belonging  to  "  motor  people." 

"  I  should  think  Uncle  Claude  could  deal  with 
it,"  she  said,  with  propriety. 

"  How  can  he,  poor  dear?  "  said  Violet.  "  He  is 
tied  hand  and  foot,  by  Lady  Brading,  who  always 
trusted  him,  and  by  Sir  Rupert,  who  is  literally  at 
the  last  gasp.  He  can't  stir  from  the  toils  about 
him,  Maud,  that  is  his  painful  position.  A  doctor  is 
hardly  allowed  to  be  a  man.  And  yet  he  is  bound 
to  have  heard  of  this  horror,  from  other  sources. 
The  Derings  have  crowds  of  acquaintance,  and 
people  getting  well  of  things  are  the  most  uncon- 


336  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

scionable  gabblers  of  all.  I  really  think,"  said  Violet 
gravely,  "  that  Father  hears  all  the  gossip  in  London; 
and  though  he  spurns  it  naturally,  he  never  for- 
gets a  word.  That  is  the  way  he  is  constituted.  In 
this  case  he  has  no  escape  from  torture,  that  I  can 
perceive." 

Grave  silence  again.  Maud  was  hardly  up  to 
Violet's  level,  in  this  kind  of  catastrophe;  she  pre- 
ferred the  less  startling  case  of  Margery.  But,  since 
Violet  could  always  find  words  for  everything,  she 
let  her  talk,  for  that  she  knew  was  good  for  her. 
Also,  Maud  was  curious  still. 

"  Of  course  Father  is  virtually  living  with  the 
Bradings,"  said  Violet.  "  The  servants  were  to  have 
got  off  on  Friday.  Our  house  may  be  shut  for  all 
I  know, —  he  neglects  to  mention  it.  He  says  the 
end  cannot  be  far  now,  and  I  shall  have  a  wire 
without  fail,  or  if  too  late  and  the  office  shut,  a 
scrawl.  I  stipulated  that  naturally,  thinking  of 
Margery.  Father  is  quite  aware  of  the  immense 
importance,  to  her.  .  .  .  But  even  then,  the 
poor  woman  would  be  on  his  hands :  unless  she  would 
accept  Mr.  Forrest.  He  says  she  is  hardly  reason- 
able —  Heaven  knows.  Perhaps  when  everybody 
about  you  is  in  Purgatory,  you  hardly  feel  your  own. 
I  should  of  course,  but  Father  has  a  finer  mind." 

Violet  was  evidently  low  to-day,  Maud  was  re- 
flecting as  she  sewed. 


FOREIGN  ADMINISTRATIONS       337 

"  It  must  console  him  to  be  doing  good,"  she  said. 
She  felt  she  was  on  her  own  ground  here. 

"  It  wouldn't  me,  the  least,"  said  Violet.  "  How- 
ever." 

She  gazed  down  at  Erasmus  desolately.  Her 
other  foot  was  now  asleep,  but  it  seemed  a  pity  to 
disturb  such  a  sheer  revel  of  repose  as  that  to  which 
the  retriever's  attitude  bore  witness.  Life  is  hard 
on  all  of  us,  and  Erasmus  was  mourning  Peacock, 
his  true  friend.  Also  he  was  old,  and  age  has  its 
privileges.    Violet  sighed,  and  suffered  him. 

"  You  could  not  go  home  for  a  night,"  observed 
Maud,  "  if  the  servants  are  all  away.  And  the 
Bradings  could  not  have  you,  naturally." 

"  No,"  said  Violet.  The  impulsive  plan  seemed  to 
have  evaporated  already,  and  she  was  gazing  at  the 
sky.  "  You  cannot,  however,  keep  me  for  ever  here, 
delightful  as  you  are,  and  exquisite  as  it  is.  The 
roar  of  the  great  City  summons  me.  Miss  Lennox  is 
coming  back  from  Ramsgate.  I  must  plunge  again 
soon," 

"  Darling,"  said  Maud,  stopping  work  for  the  first 
time.  "  You  know  you  are  not  half  rested,  really. 
You  will  over-do  things,  wherever  you  are,  so  much." 

"  I  am  learning  not  to,"  returned  Violet.  "  Have 
patience  with  my  natural  infirmities,  Maud,  The 
business,  I  am  certain,  will  be  all  right,  whatever 
else  crashes  about  me.     I  am  perfectly  reassured 


338  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

as  to  the  status  of  Lennoxes.  And  that  is  my  object 
in  life  at  present." 

"  Don't  be  absurd,"  said  Maud. 

"  My  solitary  object.  In  my  best  moods,"  said 
Violet,  still  gazing  at  the  sky,  "  I  think  of  nothing 
else." 

"I  am  glad  I  know  you  in  your  worst  moods, 
then." 

After  that,  silence  supervened ;  and  Maud's  watch 
alone  could  say  at  what  late  period  of  the  morning 
it  was  broken  again,  Erasmus  was  kicked  off  three 
times,  and  each  time  settled  anew,  for  Violet's  little 
shoe  as  a  pillow  suited  him. 

"  Maud,"  said  a  sleep-walking  voice  at  last. 

"  Violet." 

"  I  have  just  discovered,  I  have  not  run  a  single 
tuck  in  that  white  thing  over  there.  And  I  promised 
Alice,  as  I  value  her  friendship,  to  accomplish  thirty- 
seven." 

"  That  is  what  I  alluded  to,"  said  Maud,  thread- 
ing another  needle,  "  about  an  hour  and  a  quarter 
ago.  I  like  you  best  when  you  are  lazy.  Mother 
was  heavenly  when  she  was  lazy  too.  Some  people 
can't  be,  for  their  lives.  I  begin  to  feel  a  perfect 
idiot,  if  I  sit  for  ten  minutes  idle.  You  were  made 
for  a  lady  of  leisure,  Violet." 

"  I  scorn  your  insinuations,"  said  Violet,  "  and 
throw  that  last  insult  in  your  teeth.    Give  me  that 


FOREIGN  ADMINISTRATIONS       339 

basket,  dear,  if  you  can  reach.  No^  Erasmus,  the 
lingering  agony  is  too  awful.  I  can't  bear  it, —  I 
will  not  bear  it  any  longer, —  go!  Oh,  Maud, 
console  him, —  kiss  his  beautiful  head, —  he  is 
offended!" 


VI 

ROUT   OF   THE    SCHEMERS 

Mr.  Gibbs  went  up  to  town  the  same  afternoon,  and, 
finding  himself  wanted,  stayed  there.  Dr.  Ashwin's 
telegram  was  despatched  that  night,  but  failed  to 
get  through,  no  doubt  by  the  fault  of  the  messenger. 
It  was  brought  up  the  next  morning  after  breakfast 
by  a  boy  from  Glasswell,  and  punctually  followed 
by  a  short  note, —  what  Violet  designated  a  scrawl 
—  by  the  second  post  at  midday. 

The  despatch  said,  "  Brading  died  six  this  evening 
she  is  holding  up,  Father."  The  scrawl,  stamped 
with  the  Brading  address,  said  — 

"  My  Dear  Child, 

"  Tell  your  hostess  and  such  as  it  may  concern 
that  all  is  over,  and  better  than  we  had  feared.  He 
was  unconscious  an  hour  before  the  end,  and  I  could 
allow  her  to  be  with  him.  The  certainty  seems  to 
soothe  her,  as  I  had  trusted.  The  life  was  fine  if 
short,  strictly  devoted  to  the  public  good,  the  martyr- 
dom an  injustice  you  can  ask  your  uncle  to  defend. 
I  stay  for  the  funeral,  of  course, —  no  nonsense  about 


FOREIGN  ADMINISTRATIONS      341 

joining  me.  Robert  is  overwhelmed  by  necessary 
details  naturally,  but  he  will  make  time  to  come 
over.  He  is  armed  against  fate,  he  tells  me.  Let 
her  know." 

"Where  is  she^  "  asked  Violet,  having  read  it 
eagerly  through.  "  Maud,  where  has  Margery 
gone?" 

That  was  what  nobody  could  tell  her:  for  Mar- 
gery had  gone  wandering,  urged  by  the  startling  spur 
of  the  first  telegram.  Margery  had  a  ticket  for 
the  Flower  Show  in  her  little  satchel,  acquired  by 
methods  of  cunning  and  concealment  quite  foreign 
to  her  simple  nature,  and  in  her  liberal  environment, 
quite  unnecessary.  By  sudden  rushes,  like  a  devas- 
tating wind  from  deserts  that  man  cannot  track,  the 
need  to  see  Abel  Peacock  swept  across  her.  She 
repeated  that  she  was  in  the  hands  of  God,  but  it 
was  a  very  earthly  demon  that  had  mastered  her. 
She  believed, —  she  repeated  that  she  believed, — 
that  Abel  had  meant,  in  that  extraordinary  note  he 
left  which  she  would  not  destroy,  though  Violet 
besought  her  to  do  so, —  that  she  should  meet  him. 
She  believed  —  Heaven  knows  what  she  believed,  or 
had  persuaded  herself  to  accept  as  life  and  truth. 
Her  imagination,  seconding  her  passions,  was  proving 
itself  capable  of  things  Margery  herself  could  never 
have  conceived.    She  feared  herself,  not,  like  Violet, 


342  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

because  she  knew  herself  too  well,  but  because  she 
had  never  really  sought  self-knowledge.  Her  elder 
sister,  who  knew  her  as  sisters  do,  was  right  enough 
there.  The  fact,  had  she  ever  faced  it,  was  simple 
enough.  She  was  basely  in  love  with  a  beautiful 
animal,  and  many  have  been  likewise:  men  very 
openly  and  exultantly,  and  women  in  secret,  and 
tormented. 

For  Margery  knew  far  better,  of  course,  all  the 
time.  Her  mother's  education,  her  father's  example, 
both  supplementing  a  naturally  able  brain,  genuine 
if  limited  experience  of  life  among  her  poor  folk  in 
the  Glasswell  neighbourhood,  even  a  sense  of  the 
ludicrous,  an  intermittent  wild  power  of  mockery 
of  herself,  was  not  wanting  to  assist  her.  She  was 
far  from  certain  she  meant  to  go  to  London,  even 
now.  She  dreaded,  with  desperate  shyness,  the  star- 
ing of  familiar  faces  on  the  road,  the  necessity  of 
placing  herself  in  a  public  train;  but  still  dreading, 
detesting,  and  shrinking,  she  took  a  morning  walk 
through  the  woods, —  in  the  direction  of  Glasswell 
station. 

It  was  a  long  way,  even  by  the  short  cut ;  and  the 
path  went  plunging  among  copses,  each  one  dear  and 
peculiar  to  Margery's  country-loving  heart,  full  of 
images  and  of  memories.  She  waited  several  times, 
for  she  had  started  early,  as  she  was  accustomed  to 
do  for  painting,  to  avoid  remark,  and  had  even  taken 


FOREIGN  ADMINISTRATIONS       343 

the  precaution  to  hide  the  painting  apparatus  before 
she  set  out.  She  had  covered  her  trail,  in  short,  like 
any  criminal.  The  periods  of  waiting  tried  her  far 
more  than  active  movement  did;  she  sat  by  the 
way  on  banks  or  stiles,  her  lips  compressed  into  an 
obstinate  wretched  line,  her  thoughts  following  the 
same  fixed  round,  feverish  and  unresting.  They 
were  fixed  forward,  though,  those  thoughts;  it  had 
not  occurred  to  her  once,  being  used  to  freedom  like 
the  air,  that  she  could  be  followed. 

Violet  and  Maud,  having  hastily  scoured  all  her 
favourite  haunts,  exchanged  a  look,  Maud's  almost 
of  triumph,  Violet's  of  despair. 

"  She  has  done  it,"  said  Maud. 

"  I  will  not  believe  it,"  said  Violet.  "  You  should 
not  say  such  things  of  your  sister.  She  has  gone  for 
a  walk,  do  you  hear*?  —  because  she  had  a  nasty 
headache;  and  I  am  going  after  her,  with  salts." 

"  It's  too  late,"  said  Maud.  "  The  London  train 
is  eleven-fifty." 

"  I  put  not  my  trust  in  time-tables,"  said  Violet. 
"  I  put  it  in  Margery.  Explain  to  your  Mother 
about  lunch."     And  she  went. 

She  went  very  swiftly,  agile-footed,  slipping 
through  the  light  and  shadow  of  the  woods.  She 
had  walked  the  way  with  Margery  before,  and  had 
no  doubts  which  of  the  many  winding  paths  to 
choose;  for  of  course,  notwithstanding  her  perfect 


344  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

faith  in  her  cousin,  the  line  of  the  station  was  her 
general  direction.  She  met  nobody,  so  could  obtain 
no  reassurance,  one  way  or  the  other.  Once,  in  the 
open,  she  caught  the  white  puff  of  a  train  among  the 
distant  woods,  and  had  a  momentary  pang,  a  shock 
of  doubt,  as  bad  as  Maud's  and  worse, —  since  all 
such  things  were  worse  to  Violet.  Was  that  the 
train  Margery  had  taken*?  Had  she  really  suc- 
cumbed to  this  ignoble  enchantment,  and  gone  to 
what  must  be  her  shame:  a  memorable,  lifelong 
humiliation*?  Would  he  not  laugh,  in  that  intoler- 
able manner,  when  he  met  her  face  to  face,  as  he 
had  laughed  upon  the  roof?  Poor,  pretty  Margery, 
—  Violet  could  not  suffer  for  a  moment  the  picture 
of  that  laughter.  It  was  simply  not  to  be  borne, 
and  turned  her  sick  with  sympathy,  so  that  she 
staggered  and  stopped. 

That  particular  train,  as  it  happened,  came  from 
the  opposite  direction:  but  Violet  overlooked  such 
a  trifle  in  her  tragic  communing.  It  was  the  down 
train  from  London,  running  into  Glasswell  station, 
that  she  saw;  it  came  in  at  least  twenty  minutes 
before  the  other  to  the  town. 

At  last  she  drew  to  the  end  of  the  woods,  and 
knew  by  the  signs  that,  just  round  the  next  turn 
and  beyond  the  trees,  the  dull  route  of  the  plains 
was  before  her.  The  unshaded  road  was  ugly,  and 
very  hot,  and,  unwilling  even  to  look  upon  it,  Miss 


FOREIGN  ADMINISTRATIONS      345 

Ashwin  stopped  uncertainly,  spurring  herself  to  the 
moral  and  physical  necessity.  That  road  led,  in  ten 
or  twelve  minutes,  straight  to  the  station,  the  station 
where  Margery  had  not  gone.  Was  it  conceivable 
that  she  had  gone  there?  Could  any  girl,  kin  of 
hers,  have  been  so  crazy  as  to  have  gone  one  step 
further  than  this*? 

Margery,  half  an  hour  before  her  on  this  track, 
had  not  been  so  crazy.  That  is  to  say,  she  had  gone 
some  fifty  steps  nearer  to  the  brink,  round  the  next 
turning,  and  winced  in  fact,  as  Violet  had  done  in 
imagination,  at  the  sight  of  the  imminent  high-road. 
It  forced  her  to  pause,  and  exactly  at  the  spot  where 
she  paused,  as  her  cousin  had  hoped,  her  craziness 
had  ceased,  quite  suddenly. 

For  while  she  waited  there,  debating  furiously  in 
her  mind,  and  watching  the  framed  white  glare  of 
the  valley  with  distaste,  a  distant  figure,  looking 
very  dark  against  the  spinning  sunlight  of  midday, 
had  entered  the  frame,  coming  in  the  opposite  direc- 
tion up  the  road,  and  towards  Margery.  It  came 
along  with  an  easy  step,  but  slowly,  for  the  long 
climb  lay  before;  and,  besides,  to  one  lately  tied  to 
London  streets,  and  penned  in  sick-rooms,  through 
the  most  torrid  months  of  the  year,  the  first  shock 
of  the  woodland  solitude  was  sweet. 

Robert  did  not  see  her  immediately,  where  she 
stood  beyond  him  in  the  shadow  of  the  trees.     His 


346  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

eyes,  tired  with  watching,  were  dazzled  in  addition 
by  the  white  glare  of  the  roads.  He  came  on,  beauti- 
fully unconscious,  looking  downward,  one  hand  in 
his  pocket,  the  other  clenching  and  unclenching 
at  his  side,  as  though  he  were  pursuing  painful 
thoughts. 

The  girl  stood  stiffly,  motionless  and  mute,  unable 
even  to  conceive  what  he  must  think  of  her,  when 
he  saw.  For  it  was  borne  in  upon  Margery  that  a 
man  with  eyes  like  that,  straight  from  the  grim 
battlefield  of  life  and  death,  must  surely  penetrate 
the  truth  when  they  were  face  to  face.  Robert  was 
close  on  her,  before  he  glanced  up.  Then  he  stopped, 
awed. 

"  Margery  I  "  he  exclaimed,  forgetting  all  de- 
corum.    "  And  you  came  down  to  meet  me*?  " 

The  clearing  of  his  exhausted  face  was  wonderful 
to  see.  The  black  band  on  his  brown  sleeve  had 
become  visible. 

For  which  reasons,  no  doubt,  the  Rector's  daughter 
who  saw  it  threw  self-respect,  sincerity,  her  hope 
of  ultimate  redemption,  and  all  such  evanescent 
trifles  to  the  winds,  and  answered, —  "  Yes,  Bob." 
Nor  did  it  occur  to  Margery  for  perhaps  some  six 
months  afterwards,  that  she  had  basely  lied.  And 
then  it  was  too  late  to  apologize. 

A  good  deal  later  the  pair  came  on  together  up 
the  path,  in  one  of  love's  unstudied  attitudes,  which 


FOREIGN  ADxMINISTRATIONS      347 

take  for  granted  the  admiration  of  the  world.  But 
so  incredibly  tactless  are  the  hours  of  trains,  the 
windings  of  woodland  walks,  and  the  sweet  delays 
of  lovers,  that  they  chanced  upon  Miss  Ashwin  in 
a  place  where,  with  the  best  will  in  the  world,  she 
could  not  possibly  conceal  herself.  She  sat  perched 
where  she  was  by  the  way,  and  took  in  their  appear- 
ance with  amazement,  rapidly  growing  to  despair. 
Of  all  damning  and  reproachful  visions  to  fall  upon 
the  view  of  a  scheming  cousin!  Of  all  impossible 
situations  for  a  person  of  nice  taste  I 

No  Ashwin  had  ever,  ever  done  such  a  flagrantly 
immodest  thing  before.  Of  course,  poor  darling 
injured  Margery  had  had  private  information  of  her 
own,  and  walked  to  the  station  to  meet  him,  telling 
nobody.  Exactly,  entirely,  what  Violet  would  have 
done  herself,  what  any  nice-natured  girl,  in  any 
society,  would  have  been  bound  to  do.  And  Maud 
and  she,  near  relatives,  to  have  such  slavish  sus- 
picions ! 

Dropping  her  head,  and  laying  the  fingers  of  one 
hand  tightl)^  across  her  eyes,  Violet  waved  them  on 
with  the  other,  imperiously  as  a  queen. 

"  It's  long  past  lunch-time,"  she  said,  "  and  I  am 
lost.  I  have  been  lost  for  hours  past, —  indiscover- 
able.  Take  her  home,  Mr.  Brading, —  Sir  Robert, — 
immediately." 

"  Why,  there's  Violet,"  said  Margery,  waking  to 


348  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

the  amazing  discovery.  It  was  just  as  though  she 
had  not  seen  her  cousin  for  months.  "  Violet,  dear, 
how  ridiculous  I  " 

"  Not  at  all,"  said  Violet  desperately.  "  Some 
other  girl.  One  who  is  sworn,  here  and  now  and 
forever  more,  against  vulgar  meddling.  Considera- 
tion, Sir  Robert,  I  expect  at  least  from  you.  I  adjure 
you,  tact  I  Take  her  on,  for  mercy's  sake,  and  for- 
get about  me." 

Bob  had  gathered  something  from  Margery  on  the 
way  up,  and  had  also  possibly,  during  the  dragging 
leisure  of  long  days  past,  talked  to  his  mother's 
doctor.  Under  direction  or  not,  he  left  Margery, 
and  came  up  to  where  Violet  was  sitting  on  a  stone, 
her  eyes  concealed,  a  drooping,  dejected  statue  of 
humiliation.  The  fallen  leaves  were  soft  all  round 
the  stone,  and  Robert  .trod  lightly,  as  though  that 
had  been  part  of  the  wordless  direction  he  had 
received.  He  was  very  near  to  the  little  statue  before 
he  spoke. 

"  I  am  under  an  eternal  burden  of  obligation 
to  your  family.  Miss  Ashwin,"  he  said  quietly, 
"  doubled  now.  I  have  no  earthly  excuse  but  happi- 
ness for  this  proceeding.    Do  you  mind*?  " 

Violet  did  not  mind.  She  awoke  to  life,  though, 
to  discover  suddenly  what  a  pleasant  thing  a  brother 
was.  Also,  she  had  alwa)'S  thought  him  delightful, 
if  a  trifle  obvious  in  dialogue.     He  must  be  ex- 


FOREIGN  ADMINISTRATIONS       349 

traordinarily  moved  out  of  his  calm  self  to  embrace 
her,  but  that  was  right.  Their  behaviour  on  both 
sides  was  eminently  right,  except  that  they  refused  to 
walk  ahead,  and  let  her  follow,  as  she  attempted  to 
do,  to  pick  up  the  things  they  dropped.  Margery, 
both  of  whose  hands  were  engaged,  had  already 
dropped  her  bag  three  times,  as  Robert  might  have 
seen  for  himself,  if  he  had  once  looked  round.  Violet 
returned  it  to  her  patiently,  observing  that  it  was 
clear  she  attached  no  value  to  anything  it  contained. 
And  yet,  if  Violet  had  had  the  curiosity  to  look 
inside  the  receptacle,  she  would  have  found  a  five- 
shilling  ticket  for  the  Flower  Show,  opening  that 
very  day  in  a  certain  park,  at  twelve  o'clock;  and 
five  shillings  must  represent  a  certain  degree  of 
importance,  to  a  thrifty  clergyman's  daughter  like 
Margery  Gibbs. 

Bob  did  not  stay  even  for  luncheon,  late  as  it  v/as 
when  they  finally  reached  the  Rector}\  He  simply 
shook  hands  with  Mrs.  Gibbs,  told  her,  in  what 
Charles  would  have  found  the  most  unimaginative 
terms,  that  his  mother  was  better,  and  Margery  had 
made  him  a  happy  man,  borrowed  the  Rector's 
bicycle,  and  flew  back  by  train  to  town.  But  when 
the  Rector,  having  resumed  his  bicycle  at  the  station, 
arrived  at  home  very  tired  that  same  night,  he  had 
already  heard  the  news. 


350  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

He  spent  most  of  the  evening  with  Margery  on 
his  knee,  and,  as  she  was  still  the  baby  of  the  home, 
they  were  very  foolish  together.  Also,  as  frequently 
happens  with  other  babies,  she  ended  by  crying, 
and  that  at  a  very  small  provocation.  He  merely 
enquired,  when  he  was  dismissing  her  to  bed,  if  she 
was  going  to  sleep  with  her  sister  to-night,  and  be 
a  good  girl. 

"  No,"  sobbed  Margery.  "  They  will  not  Met 
me.  They  have  turned  me  out, —  for  good  I  "  And, 
still  sobbing,  she  retired  to  a  night  of  restless  bliss  in 
Violet's  room. 

The  Rector,  having  got  rid  of  all  the  children, 
relieved  himself  by  a  prolonged  silence.  Then, 
recollecting  himself,  he  told  his  wife,  for  her  relief, 
that  he  had  found  time  to  see  Warden,  but  not 
Charles.  He  had  made,  indeed,  no  attempt  to  see 
Charles,  for  he  believed,  at  the  present  stage,  it 
would  have  been  unfruitful.  Claude  had  given  him 
a  personal  introduction  to  Warden,  who  was  a  very 
pleasant  fellow,  and  had  told  him  a  number  of 
things  he  wanted  to  know.  Charles,  it  seemed,  was 
attending  regularly  at  the  office,  and  behaving  sur- 
prisingly well.  Where  and  how  he  was  living,  Mr. 
Warden  could  not  say,  for  the  card  Charles  had 
offered  him  had  only  the  Glasswell  address  upon  it; 
but  he  looked  —  the  Rector  gathered  from  Warden's 
observations  —  well  fed  and  respectable.     During 


FOREIGN  ADMINISTRATIONS      351 

the  production  of  these  details  Mrs.  Gibbs'  hands, 
wreathed  with  her  knitting-wool,  lay  in  her  lap. 
When  she  had  heard  the  last,  she  resumed  her  work 
without  replying. 

"  Has  Violet  yet  heard  from  the  girl'?  "  the  Rector 
asked. 

"  No,"  said  his  wife. 

"Humph I  "  said  the  Rector:  and  considered  for 
a  space  with  knitted  brow. 

"  Perhaps  Charles  is  living  with  the  girl,"  said 
Mrs,  Gibbs,  who  had  the  strong-minded  quality  of 
seizing  the  bull  by  the  horns. 

The  Rector  imagined  not.  She  was  a  beautiful 
girl,  but,  he  considered,  not  that  sort  at  all.  Also, 
Claude  had  scoffed  at  the  idea. 

"  Well,"  said  Mrs.  Gibbs,  "  he  ought  to  know." 

"  He's  a  fair  judge  of  character,"  said  the  Rector, 
who  plumed  himself  on  the  same  quality. 

"  That  is  not  what  I  meant,  Arthur." 

"  No,  my  dear :  you  meant,  that  he  had  a  notorious 
wife." 

Finding  him  thus  capable  of  dealing  with  bulls  as 
well,  she  looked  a  little  out  of  countenance,  for  she 
had  collected  some  of  the  Bering  girl's  gossip  through 
Maud. 

"  Did  your  brother  talk  about  that?  "  she  said. 

"Claude?  OfEveleen?  Tome?  Good  heavens, 
no.     I  am  the  other  party, —  have  always  been  it. 


352  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

You  would  say  she  was  the  ordinary  perfection,  the 
way  he  talks  of  her."  He  waited  for  a  period. 
"  One  little  thing  struck  me  though,  Henrietta.  He 
is  anxious  for  me  to  get  Violet  to  send  him  on  her 
letters.    That  suggests  he  is  short  of  news  himself." 

"  Oh,"  said  Mrs.  Gibbs,  "  Violet  says  her  mother 
never  writes.  The  maid  has  answered  his  letters 
before  now.  A  prepaid  telegram  is  the  most  she  will 
regard,  and  having  to  regard  it  makes  her  furious." 

"  Good  God,"  said  the  Rector,  very  feelingly, 
"  what  a  position  for  a  man  I  But  I  can  assure  you, 
nobody  would  think  it.  He  does  not  avoid  the 
subject  even,  at  least  perceptibly.  He  is  desperately 
proud  —  like  her." 

"  Like  Violet?  " 

"Like  Margaret;  Violet  is  the  same,  though,  as 
her  late  proceedings-  testify.  I  greatly  fear  that 
child  is  suffering,  Henrietta:  and  I  dared  say  no 
word  to  Claude,  distracted  as  he  is.  If  he  jfinds  her 
worn  out,  we  shall  catch  it.  It  is  a  tolerable  re- 
sponsibility, as  I  told  him;  but  he  won't  have  her 
back  now  until  the  Dering  party  breaks  up.  So  I 
promised  to  put  up  with  her,  for  his  sake." 

"  That's  all  right,"  said  Mrs.  Gibbs,  frowning 
over  a  knot  in  her  knitting. 

"  Sure?  "  said  the  Rector. 

"  Quite."     She  glanced  at  him.     "  Don't  be  ab- 


FOREIGN  ADMINISTRATIONS       353 

surd,  Arthur.  I  have  told  you  more  than  once,  I 
like  the  child.  There's  more  in  her  than  you'd  think. 
Is  her  father  going  to  Bering  after  all,  then"?  " 

"  Like  an  arrow  from  the  bow,  the  day  after  the 
funeral.  And  brings  Mrs.  Claude  back,  according 
to  himself,  within  the  week." 

"  Well,"  said  Mrs.  Gibbs,  "  I  trust  he  may,  that's 
all." 

"  I  have  no  doubt  he  will,"  returned  the  Rector. 
"  And  if  it  comes  to  a  duel,  he  will  kill  the  French- 
man, But  he  will  never  kill  her,  nor  himself.  He 
has  too  clear  a  sense  of  duty." 

"Really,  Arthur!"  said  Mrs.  Gibbs.  Arthur's 
way  of  regarding  things  made  her  hopeless  at  times, 
and  he  was  terribly  biased  in  life  by  his  enthusiasms. 
However,  it  was  evident  he  had  reached  on  his  own 
account  more  of  the  scandal  than  she  had  to  offer 
him;  so  she  was  too  wise  to  attempt  to  supple- 
ment. 

"  I  have  forgotten  the  Eccles  number  again,"  he 
observed  to  her  after  a  long,  and  apparently  drowsy 
interval. 

"  I  wrote  it  in  your  book,"  said  Mrs.  Gibbs. 
"  What  do  you  want  it  for'?  " 

She  looked  at  him  with  quick  suspicion,  thinking 
of  Charles.    He  did  not  even  perceive  the  suspicion. 

"  I  must  write  a  line,"  he  said,  his  kind  eyes 


354  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

watching  the  fire.  "  Turning  things  over  lately,  in 
the  train,  it  struck  me  I  had  done  a  thoroughly 
blundering  thing." 

"  What  now  ?  "  said  his  wife  patiently. 

The  Rector  explained,  as  though  he  had  been 
seized  red-handed  in  crime,  that  he  had  sent  his 
Flower  Show  ticket  to  the  girl  Eccles  on  an  impulse, 
and  had  quite  forgotten  the  probable  chance  of  her 
happening  upon  Peacock  if  she  went.  She  must,  of 
course,  have  fathomed  their  connection  with  Peacock 
by  now,  by  means  of  the  flower-box.  Miss  Eccles,  a 
sharp  girl,  would  naturally  think  Charles'  guardian 
had  done  it  on  purpose,  which,  the  guardian  being 
the  Rector,  he  had  not.  Mr.  Gibbs  was  very  de- 
pressed about  it.  He  would  not  be  considered  a 
scheming  party,  by  a  pretty  maiden;  he  would  sooner 
be  thought  a  fool. 

"Really,  Arthur!"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Gibbs,  more 
hopelessly  than  ever,  at  this  elaborate  piece  of 
quixotism. 

But  she  let  him  go  his  way,  and  even  brought  him 
paper  to  write  his  "  line."  She  told  herself  that  he 
treated  Alice  as  carefully  as  if  she  were  a  member  of 
his  family  already;  but  she  had  long  since  learned 
not  to  speak  all  her  thoughts,  and  was  conscious 
even  of  a  weak  inclination  to  humour  Arthur's 
follies,  at  times.     In  her  hard  experience  of  man, 


FOREIGN  ADMINISTRATIONS      355 

such  innocuous  follies  as  he  owned  were  almost  a 
luxury  to  deal  with. 

But  this  little  stroke  of  playful  consideration,  on 
the  part  of  a  father  who  owned  girls,  had  the  effect 
far  more  elaborate  scheming  might  have  failed  to 
have, —  that  of  unlocking  Alice.  She  and  Violet, 
both  on  their  maiden  dignities,  had  exchanged  no 
word  since  the  crisis.  But  she  sent  a  line,  with  the 
ticket  she  returned,  to  the  Rector. 

"  Dear  Mr.  Gibbs, 

"  I  never  thought  of  such  a  thing.    I  am  doing 
what  I  can. 

"  With  grateful  thanks,  yours  very  truly, 

"A.    ECCLES." 

And  that  slight  consolation,  from  the  last  quarter 
she  expected,  was  cradled  by  Charles'  mother  be- 
neath her  pillow  the  same  night. 


VII 

MRS.  NICKLEBY 

Charles  found  Alice's  address  eventually,  of  course, 
in  a  manner  we  shall  leave  to  the  surmise  of  simi- 
larly ingenious  young  gentlemen.  After  one  or  two 
stormy  interviews  with  Alice  at  Lennoxes, —  for 
Charles  had  discovered  a  temper  as  well  as  she, — 
Miss  Lennox  herself  came  home  from  Ramsgate, 
and  that  line  of  communication  was  cut  off.  Conse- 
quently, Charles  was  driven  to  discover  where  Miss 
Eccles  lived;  and  having  done  so  in  the  manner 
undetailed,  called  on  her  mother. 

He  paid  a  prolonged  call,  since  he  continued  to 
hope  for  Alice's  return  from  work,  which  did  not 
take  place,  and  he  sat  through  a  prolonged  tea- 
drinking  episode  in  the  course  of  it;  but,  sad  to 
say,  though  he  behaved  like  a  graduate  and  a  gentle- 
man, he  did  not  like  Mrs.  Eccles. 

This  had  better  be  confessed  at  once,  because  no 
sign  of  the  feeling  emerged,  either  in  her  company, 
or  later  in  that  of  her  daughter;  and  also  because 
Mrs.  Eccles,  at  the  time  and  afterwards,  made  no 
secret  of  the  fact  that  she  was  in  love  with  Mr. 


FOREIGN  ADMINISIRATIONS      357 

Shovel!.  He  absolutely  went  to  her  heart,  his  face, 
his  clothes,  his  accent,  his  innocence,  and  the  sanctity 
of  a  country  Rectory  that  hedged  him  round  about. 
Mrs.  Eccles  adored  the  country,  she  revelled  in  the 
clergy,  she  had  grown  up  herself  in  a  Vicarage, — 
did  Mr.  Shovell  know'?  She  knew  far  more  about 
altar-cloths,  vestments,  livings,  buryings, —  not  to 
mention  Bishops, —  than  did  Charles.  She  knew  all 
about  Mr.  Gibbs  and  his  dear  wife,  who  had  been 
such  a  friend  to  her  and  Alice.  Charles  explained, 
as  soon  as  he  could  insert  a  word  in  the  torrent, 
that  the  dear  Mrs.  Gibbs  of  Mrs.  Eccles'  memories 
was  long  dead,  and  that  Mr.  Gibbs  was  only  con- 
nected quite  recently  with  himself,  by  marriage. 
But  such  protestations  had  little  effect  on  Mrs. 
Eccles,  and  her  eloquence.  The  link  with  Mr. 
Shovell,  to  her  mind,  was  obvious,  the  gratification 
caused  by  his  attention  in  calling  likewise,  and  she 
needed  a  great  deal  of  strong  tea  to  carry  her  through 
the  emotions  of  the  interview. 

She  was  considerate  of  his  feelings,  too.  She 
allowed  the  invariable  interval  known  to  the  best 
circles,  before  she  mentioned  Alice's  name,  and  then 
she  only  wondered  if  Mr.  Shovell  had  met  her 
daughter.  He  stammered  some  praises  of  Alice,  and 
Mrs.  Eccles,  filling  up  her  tea-cup,  filled  out  his 
encomiums  also.  Alice  had  been  "her  prop,  her  con- 
solation, through  long  and  direful  sufferings.     Mr. 


358  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

Shovell  could  have  no  idea  of  their  martyrdom,  or 
rather  of  her  own  sacrifices  for  Alice.  She  was  a 
good  girl,  considered  good-looking  by  their  small 
circle  in  Brixton, —  but  what  is  a  girl?  Her  own 
health  was  most  uncertain,  her  life  —  he  might  not 
know  —  had  already  once  been  despaired  of,  and  she 
had  often  lain  awake  whole  nights  of  anxiety,  think- 
ing of  Alice's  future.  Mothers  have  silly  fears  on 
the  subject  of  their  girls.     Now,  if  she  had  had  a 

son 

It  is  doubtful  how  far  Mrs.  Eccles  would  have 
gone,  if  Charles  had  not  risen  to  take  leave.  She 
had  some  remnants  of  delicacy  left,  and  she  might 
have  refrained,  in  his  presence,  from  airing  that 
ancient  grievance  of  the  baby  boy  who  died.  Yet 
one  never  knows:  for  a  life  of  trials  and  tea  is 
deteriorating,  and  Mrs.  Eccles  had  never  been  strong- 
minded.  She  was  one  of  those  poor  rags  of  humanity 
that  set  brutal  or  impatient  witnesses  thinking  at 
once  of  the  virtues  of  the  Spartans,  and  their  eco- 
nomic method  of  weeding  out  their  less  successful 
offspring  by  means  of  exposure  in  extremest  youth. 
Such  would  have  pronounced  that  Mrs.  Eccles  had 
far  better,  for  State  purposes,  have  been  so  exposed, 
and  disposed  of.  Yet  this  same  poor  rag  had  pro- 
duced the  glorious  young  citizeness,  Alice,  so  some- 
thing could  still  be  said  for  her.  And  Charles,  who 
knew  about  the  Spartans,  was  telling  himself  that 


FOREIGN  ADMINISTRATIONS      359 

saving  truth  most  sedulously,  the  whole  way  down 
the  street. 

The  interview  shook  him,  though,  as  Alice's  fury 
of  scorn  in  defence  of  Violet  had  not  shaken  him; 
for  Alice  was  hampered  by  a  generous  spirit,  and 
she  had  not  yet  descended  to  what  might  have  been 
more  workable  means  of  hardening  his  heart,  and 
discouraging  his  pursuit  of  her. 

Alice  was  hampered  also,  it  has  to  be  confessed, 
by  a  liking  for  Charles.  It  was  impossible  not  to 
like  him,  through  all  his  extravagance  and  irregu- 
larity. He  was  born  likeable,  and  especially  to 
women,  and  especially  to  women  of  the  nobler  stuff. 
Such  women  rarely  care  for  heroes,  and  Charles 
missed  the  heroic  by  several  delightful  degrees.  He 
changed  his  mind,  betrayed  his  thoughts  and  second- 
thoughts,  contradicted  himself,  made  himself  absurd 
and  pitiful.  When  he  recollected  that  he  had  done 
so,  he  became  miserable  and  dignified,  and  was  more 
irresistible  still.  He  was  well-bred,  also  innately 
delicate  and  gentle,  for  the  Shovells  were  an  un- 
tainted stock,  and  could  be  tracked  into  the  nobility 
of  the  Stuart  times,  when  they  had  cleaved  to  their 
king,  and  fallen  in  his  cause,  absurdly  and  becom- 
ingh^  as  was  their  wont. 

Alice  did  not  disguise  from  herself  that  she  would 
have  married  him  willingly,  and  taken  charge  of 
him  finally,  had  things  been  quite  different;  and, 


36o  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

as  things  were,  she  was  very  near  indeed  to  falling 
in  love  with  him  by  an  oversight,  while  she  was 
scolding  most  vigorously.  What  girl  disdains  to  be 
adored  by  such  a  man?  Where  will  you  find  her, 
high-principled  or  the  contrary,  in  the  length  or 
breadth  of  London?  Miss  Eccles  did  not  at  all 
disdain  his  youthful  homage,  his  stammering 
rhapsodies  in  her  praise :  though  being  a  thoroughly 
clever  girl,  she  made  a  successful  pretence  at  every 
encounter  of  doing  so. 

It  made  her  even  a  little  fonder  of  him  that  she 
had  to  lie  for  him  to  Miss  Lennox,  and  lower  herself 
permanently  in  the  estimation  of  that  lady.  She 
could  easily  have  given  him  away,  for  Miss  Lennox 
took  her  word,  but  she  did  not.  She  amused  herself 
by  doing  the  contrary.  She  was  practically  alone 
with  Miss  Lennox,  the  week  while  Violet,  by  her 
father's  command,  still  lingered  among  the  late 
roses  at  Glasswell.  She  had  to  face  searching 
enquiry,  and  the  silly  blabbing  of  little  Sally 
Pepper,  for  which  Alice  would  have  been  glad  — 
very  glad  —  to  slap  Sally.  But  Sally  was  a  clever 
little  "hand,"  and  had  learnt  Lennoxes'  ways:  so 
Alice  merely  sewed,  sniffed,  and  retorted  at  intervals 
upon  her  reproachful  patroness. 

Miss  Lennox  was  naturally  very  sorry  indeed  at 
what  she  heard  about  Alice  from  the  people  down- 
stairs,—  disappointed  extremely.     She  understood  a 


FOREIGN  ADMINISTRATIONS       361 

young  man  had  been  calling  constantly,  keeping 
Miss  Eccles  company  while  Miss  Ashwin  was 
away.  What  steps  Miss  Lennox  ought  to  take  about 
Miss  Ashwin's  parents,  who  were  so  particular, 
Miss  Lennox  could  not  think,  and  Alice  did  not  help 
her.  She  hoped  Alice  would  tell  her  about  it 
frankly, —  several  times  over;  but  Alice  never  did. 
She  only  looked  at  "  Loyce,"  said  her  mother  knew 
the  family,  and  re-threaded  her  needle  on  a  short 
end  of  cotton,  having  carefully  licked  the  thread. 
All  the  same,  the  evening  she  came  home  to 
Brixton  after  Charles'  call  there,  she  was  rather 
tired.  It  was  no  "  fun  "  at  Lennoxes  in  Violet's  ab- 
sence. She  longed  also  to  have  news  of  Violet,  but 
she  was  not  going  to  ask  for  it.  Violet,  shut  among 
Charles'  nearest  relations,  was  probably  hearing 
floods  of  lies  about  her :  but  she  might  sink  or  swim 
upon  the  flood  for  Alice.  It  was  not  likely,  at 
the  stage  of  confidence  she  and  Violet  had  reached, 
she  was  going  to  exonerate  herself,  or  defend  her 
proceedings.  Mr.  Shovell  might  exonerate  her,  by 
means  of  abuse,  if  he  liked.  He  might  or  might 
not  have  done  so  already;  it  all  depended  on  what 
terms  young  fellows  like  that  were  upon  with  their 
families.  Alice  could  not  begin  to  guess,  indeed 
she  plumed  herself  on  not  guessing,  how  such  people 
went  to  work.  Beyond  this  again,  she  was  aware  of 
her  limitations  in  the  art  of  letter-writing,  and  she 


362  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

was  aware  Violet  was  a  past  expert  in  its  mysteries. 
And  it  is  reckless  anyhow  to  try  to  write  a  thing 
that  can  hardly  be  said,  at  least  in  Alice's  vocabulary. 
The  thought  of  saying  anything  at  all,  in  that  quar- 
ter, made  her  dumb,  and  filled  her  eyes  with  furious 
tears. 

Her  adoration  for  Violet,  violently  repressed,  since 
its  torrential  force  made  her  almost  ashamed,  was 
a  thing  unique,  unheard-of,  as  Miss  Eccles  believed, 
in  the  world  before.  The  revelation  of  woman 
to  woman  is  often  just  as  remarkable,  for  all  the 
truisms  on  the  subject,  as  the  revelation  of  woman 
to  man.  Alice  had  had  no  idea,  before  their  meeting, 
that  persons  like  Miss  Ashwin  existed.  She  thought 
the  world  consisted  of  jolly  girls  of  her  own  sort, 
and  fine  ladies  she  professionally  despised.  She  was 
as  stilted  as  any  blue-blooded  aristocrat  in  her  ideas, 
as  Violet  had  repeatedly  informed  her.  But  that 
difficult  fence,  that  looks  so  impenetrable  to  sensitive 
would-be  trespassers  on  either  side,  having  been 
once  torn  down,  she  was  conquered  instantly,  on 
their  common  ground  of  girlhood,  by  Violet's  sweet- 
ness. Alice  was  prostrate  really,  which  accounted 
no  doubt  for  her  snubbing  Miss  Ashwin  with  such 
conscientious  regularity,  amidst  the  steady  stream  of 
her  confidences. 

"  Well,  dear,  I  have  had  a  visitor,"  simpered  Mrs. 
Eccles.     "  Guess  who  came  to  call." 


FOREIGN  ADMINISTRATIONS      363 

"  The  curate,"  said  Alice,  taking  off  her  shoes. 
She  took  off  her  shoes  before  her  hat,  which,  Mrs. 
Eccles  had  often  warned  her,  was  vulgar. 

"  Not  the  curate, —  far  more  interesting.  A  really 
charming  young  man." 

"  Don't  be  so  hard  on  Mr.  Rigley,"  said  Alice, 
who  had  guessed.  "  I  see  you  have  washed  up  the 
tea-things,"  she  added.  "  No,  I  won't  be  nasty, 
then.     How  long  did  Mr.  Shovell  stay^  " 

"  Hours,"  said  Mrs.  Eccles,  smiling  again. 
"  Waiting  for  you  probably,  naughty  girl." 

"  Well,"  said  Alice,  "  I  only  hope  he  has  learnt 
his  own  office  times  better  than  he  has  mine.  But 
it's  unlikely."  She  sniffed.  "  I'm  ready  for  supper, 
Mum,  if  you're  not.  No  you  don't."  She  leant  and 
took  away  the  teapot,  which  her  mother  was  half 
concealing. 

The  usual  short  scene  ensued  between  them,  and 
Alice  was  as  usual  victorious.  She  put  the  teapot 
on  a  high  shelf,  as  one  does  with  a  young  child: 
waited  till  her  mother's  "  nerves  "  recovered, —  that 
is,  till  she  ceased  whimpering, —  and  then  gave  her 
a  little  encouragement. 

"  What  did  you  think  of  him? "  said  Alice. 
"Chatty  young  character,  isn't  he?  I  never  knew 
anyone  like  him  for  running  on, —  except  Abel." 

"  Now  don't  say  those  things,  Alice.  It  is  not  the 
least  amusing.     You  do  it  simply  to  annoy  me.     I 


364  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

have  long  abandoned  any  effort  on  Abel's  part,  as 
you  ought  to  know.  I  won't  be  talked  at,  con- 
tinually, on  that  subject." 

"  All  right,  ducky,"  said  Alice  soothingly.  "  I've 
forgiven  you.  But  Abel  was  a  very  special  line  in 
table  conversation,  wasn't  he"?  'I'm  obliged  to 
you,  Mrs.  Eccles,'  every  time  for  the  toast.  Do  you 
remember^  " 

"  Of  course  I  remember,"  said  her  mother,  with 
petulance.  "Abel  was  not  a  bad  kind  of  fellow, 
originally.  You  were  exceedingly  unjust  to  him, 
and  common  in  your  manner  on  purpose  to  annoy 
me,  and  make  me  ashamed  of  you  in  front  of  him. 
And  considering  what  you  drove  him  to,  I  wonder 
you  are  not  ashamed  yourself.  .  .  .  But  Mr. 
Shovell  is  very  different." 

"  Oh,  lord,"  murmured  Alice.  She  suddenly  be- 
gan to  foresee  the  line,  and  that  her  former  lengthy 
penance  of  teasing  and  reproach  was  in  store  for 
her  again.  "  Don't  do  it  this  evening,  mother," 
she  said  suddenly.  "I've  got  a  headache,  and  I 
can't  stand  it." 

"What  have  you  got  a  headache  for^ "  said 
Mrs.  Eccles,  momentarily  diverted.  "  I  have  had  a 
headache  all  day." 

"  Isn't  it  better  since  tea-time? "  said  Alice. 
"  No,  deary,  I  don't  mean  that.    I'm  crusty  to-night, 


FOREIGN  ADMINISTRATIONS      365 

that's  a  fact,  all  along  of  Miss  Lennox  and  her 
eternal  doddering." 

"  Don't  say  '  all  along  of,'  Alice,  when  you  know 
better." 

"  Owing  to,"  corrected  Alice.  "  Only  nobody 
owes  anything  to  her,  least  of  all  me." 

She  looked  hopefully  in  her  mother's  direction, 
but  Mrs.  Eccles  did  not  smile.  Even  the  most  well- 
meant  attempts  at  humour  were  lost  upon  her.  Most 
things  were  lost  on  Mrs.  Eccles,  including  her 
daughter's  headaches,  and  periods  of  strain.  She 
alluded  to  the  injury  of  the  headache  again  presently, 
while  she  watched  Alice  embark  on  a  second 
helping,  by  saying  — 

"  You're  eating  enough,  anyhow." 

**  I'm  lighter  by  half  a  stone,"  Alice  informed  her, 
"  than  I  was  this  time  last  year.  I  weighed  myself 
at  the  station  to  see.  You  can  owe  that  to  Loyce, 
if  you  like,  for  it's  her  doing  chiefly." 

Mrs.  Eccles  was  really  pleased  to  hear  this,  for 
she  liked  Alice  to  be  thin.  It  is  really  more  elegant 
to  be  thin,  as  a  cursory  examination  of  the  upper 
walks  of  our  society,  especially  clerical,  will  dem- 
onstrate. She  retorted  on  Alice  that  she  considered 
it  approached  profanity  deliberately  to  mispronounce 
a  Bible  name,  but  Alice  saw  she  was  mollified. 

She    therefore    tried    to    distract    her    mother's 


366  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

thoughts  from  Charles  Shovell  and  his  speaking 
advantages,  and  to  coax  her  to  other  subjects, 
advancing  well-tried  decoys  such  as  the  curate's 
weekly  readings  from  nice  literature,  which  Alice 
sadly  attended:  and  the  misdemeanours  of  char- 
women and  general  servants,  compared  and  con- 
trasted, with  illustrations  from  Mrs.  Eccles'  ex- 
perience. 

It  was  successful,  too,  for  a  time:  but  it  was 
ultimately  useless.  Mrs.  Eccles  had  got  a  new  sub- 
ject, and  that,  after  all,  is  something.  She  intended 
to  talk  of  Charles:  she  had  the  best  and  most  be- 
nevolent reasons  for  doing  so,  since  her  one  thought 
now  in  life  was  for  her  daughter's  good:  and,  like 
all  things  with  Mrs.  Eccles,  talking  of  Charles  soon 
became  a  habit  simply.  She  pestered  Alice  monoto- 
nously bout  that  "  nice  young  Shovell,"  and  where 
she  had  ""  picked  him  up,"  and  what  his  "  expecta- 
tions "  were  likely  to  be  from  a  wealthy  stepfather, 
and  the  "  course  "  they  had  better  adopt  with  him, 
—  the  latter  the  most  fruitful  subject  of  all.  She 
talked  until  Alice  became  fairly  weary,  and  em- 
bittered against  life.  Such  mothers  are  well  able 
to  embitter  their  children's  lives;  and  Mrs.  Eccles, 
who  "  wore  well,"  physically  speaking,  for  all  her 
groaning  and  complaint,  had  now  been  at  the  process 
for  a  long  period. 

Alice  tried  to  chaff  her  out  of  her  persistent  pur- 


FOREIGN  ADMINISTR.\TIONS       367 

suit  of  the  theme,  and  failed.  She  tried  to  speak 
seriously,  and  failed  yet  more  dismally,  for  Mrs. 
Eccles  could  never  bear  anybody  but  herself  to 
occupy  the  pulpit.  Then  the  girl,  recklessly  ingen- 
ious, hinted  that  she  was  not  herself  this  young 
Lothario's  "  first  love,"  hoping  to  enlist  at  least 
a  share  of  accustomed  sentiment  on  Violet's  side. 

This  was  worse  than  fruitless,  for  it  turned  Mrs. 
Eccles'  mind  on  cunning  methods  to  keep  Charles, 
to  ensnare  his  affections  by  any  means;  and  she  lost 
herself  in  small  senseless  plotting  that  sickened  Alice. 
There  seemed  nothing  left,  for  a  girl  of  her  un- 
sophisticated habit  of  thought,  just  as  before  in  a 
similar  situation,  but  sheer  brutality  to  Charles,  who 
fell  into  all  the  toils  laid  for  him  so  easily.  And 
every  time  Alice  was  rough  with  him,  his  devotion 
and  humility  were  such  that  she  suffered  from  heart- 
searchings  afterwards;  fearing  that,  what  with 
sympathy,  self-reproach,  and  indignation  at  her 
mother's  proceedings,  she  was  growing  rapidly  to 
like  him  too  well.  Her  instinct  was  to  protect  him, 
him  and  his  delicacy  likewise,  in  these  encounters, — 
yet  she  dared  not  attempt  his  succour,  for  her  own 
sake  and  that  of  the  cause  she  had  espoused. 

Her  ingenuity  lagged;  she  was  tired  and  languid, 
—  a  dangerous  condition.  There  were  moments 
when  her  hold  on  her  purpose  slipped,  and  her  hot 
blood  and  native  instincts  urged  her  solely.     She 


368  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

mastered  herself  in  the  cooler  period,  thought  things 
out  painfully  in  her  manner,  saw  clearly  but  two 
courses  left  her,  and  made  her  simple  choice.  Ac- 
cording to  our  nature  and  mental  capacity,  such 
problems  are  plain  to  us  or  the  reverse.  Miss  Eccles, 
unlike  her  cousin  Abel  in  the  doctor's  description, 
owned  no  "  devil  of  hesitation,"  It  was  a  point  of 
difference  with  Hamlet,  and  some  other  famous 
intellects  as  well.  She  was  doubtless  saved  some 
trouble  by  nature  in  the  matter  of  her  decision ;  and 
for  those  who  suspect  the  existence  of  the  heroic 
instinct,  in  primitive  natures  above  all,  we  frankly 
offer  that  opportunity  of  depreciation. 


VIII 

ALICE  HAS  ENOUGH 

"  Well,"  said  Alice,  on  a  certain  evening,  the 
evening  of  the  day  that  united  Robert  and  Margery 
"  If  you  want  to  know,  I've  almost  decided  to  take 
Abel." 

"  What*?  "  cried  Mrs.  Eccles,  furious  and  aghast. 
"  You  are  mad,  Alice.  You  know  Abel  has  dis- 
graced himself." 

"  Yes,"  said  Alice,  setting  her  lips.  "  And  so,  if 
you  want  to  know,  has  Mr.  Shovell.  And  of  the  two, 
I  am  sorrier  for  Abel,  because  he  couldn't  help 
himself." 

"Alice  I     What  do  you  mean*?  " 

"  Why,"  the  girl  said,  standing  by  the  table,  and 
looking  down,  "  he  just  acted  as  nature  led  him. 
He  can't  think,  to  call  thinking.  And  this  young 
Shovell  knows  much  better,  and  for  all  I  know,  is 
deceiving  himself  and  me.  I  can't  say  about  his 
sort, —  I  don't  know  enough  about  it.  Abel's  sort 
I  know.     I  shall  marry  Abel,  mother." 

"  How  do  you  know  he  will  have  you*?  "  said  her 


370  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE  . 

mother  cunningly.  "  You  tired  him  out.  He  may, 
by  now,  have  got  another." 

"  Well, —  there  are  the  flower-boxes,"  said  Alice, 
touching  the  roses  on  the  table  irresolutely. 

She  had  not  quite  decided  in  her  own  mind  how 
much  to  tell;  for  this  was  the  night  succeeding  the 
Flower  Show,  to  which  she  had  gone,  in  unusually 
high  spirits,  with  Mr.  Gibbs'  ticket  and  a  friend, —  a 
feminine  friend,  one  of  her  smart  acquaintances  in 
the  "  profession," —  that  is,  from  the  shops. 

Alice  and  the  friend  had  admired  the  flowers 
exhaustively,  enjoyed  the  air,  criticised  the  clothing 
of  the  crowd,  and  jested  in  the  most  perfect  style 
conceivable  upon  all  their  common  subjects.  They 
had  been  as  happy  as  birds,  or  as  girls  on  holiday 
can  be, —  until  they  espied  Mr.  Peacock,  and  even 
then,  although  his  appearance  was  a  shock  to  Alice 
personally,  they  enjoyed  a  new  game,  delightful  at 
least  to  the  friend,  of  dodging  his  tall  figure  through 
the  tents. 

But  there  may  be  something  worth  crediting  in 
the  talisman  of  true  love  so  extolled  by  the  poets: 
the  divining  faculty,  the  jewel  that  changes  colour, 
lightens  or  pulsates  when  the  only  woman  in  the 
world  is  near.  Howsoever  it  may  be,  Abel  the 
"  turnip  "  felt  Alice's  neighbourhood  in  the  hot  tents 
somehow:  and  once  he  followed,  she  was  unable  to 
escape.     Thus  he  entrapped  Alice  and  the  friend, 


FOREIGN  ADMINISTRATIONS       371 

laughing  and  indignant,  in  an  impasse  of  the  tents, 
and  they  had  to  turn  and  gird  themselves  for  the 
encounter. 

Then,  a  new  miracle  happened.  Whether  it  was 
the  presence  of  the  friend,  or  the  presence  of  the 
flowers, —  Mr.  Gibbs  would  have  declared  the  latter, 
—  Abel  showed  himself  discreet  and  sensible.  Digni- 
fied he  always  was,  for  physical  dignity  is  inspiring, 
not  only  to  the  beholder,  but  to  the  possessor  too. 
The  friend  notified  Alice  privately  that  she  was 
"mashed"  after  the  first  five  minutes;  and,  though 
Alice  replied  in  the  formula,  and  was  sharply  on  her 
guard,  she  was  impressed  by  him,  and  surprised. 

Abel  even  talked  I 

The  fact  was,  Abel  happened  to  be  sure  of  himself 
on  the  occasion.  He  had  never  been  so  in  Alice's 
company  before.  Within  the  horticultural  ring,  he 
was  on  his  own  ground,  one  might  have  said,  in  his 
own  temple:  for  the  thing  he  preached  was  his 
religion.  Alice  laughed  at  him  in  a  cousinly  manner 
for  the  friend's  benefit;  but  it  was  beyond  any 
concealment  on  her  part  that  he  knew,  at  least  for 
the  moment,  things  which  she  desired  to  learn. 
Throughout  the  afternoon,  while  the  friend  chaffed 
and  jested  at  her  side,  she  had  been  trying  to  learn 
things  from  the  flower-labels,  the  certificates  and 
notices.  Alice  had  natural  instincts  towards  the 
soil, —  not  like  Violet  towards  the   dew-drops  on 


372  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

rose-petals.  She  wanted  to  know,  not  the  precise 
shell  or  jewel  or  abstract  quality  that  a  flower  sug- 
gested, but  the  name  by  which  it  went  (invariably 
absurd)  in  the  exhibitor's  mouth,  its  habits,  seasons, 
tastes,  and  the  way  to  grow  it.  These  were  the 
branches  of  knowledge  which  Abel  possessed,  with 
which  his  otherwise  limited  mind  was  stored.  If  it 
were  true,  as  Claude  Ashwin  had  unkindly  said,  that 
his  vocabulary  was  restricted  to  five  dozen  English 
words,  it  might  have  been  contended  in  his  defence 
that  a  quantity  of  E<;«-English  words, —  percolate, 
pyrethrum,  hybridise,  Hopkinsonii,  and  the  like, — 
had  by  their  more  generous  growth  shoved  the 
common  vocables  out.  In  fact,  that  the  common 
vocables  were  as  weeds  in  Mr.  Peacock's  well-kept 
mind,  stocked  with  the  finest  flowers  of  the  gardener's 
vocabulary.  After  all,  we  cannot  all  of  us,  like  Miss 
Eccles,  possess  two  dialects  at  once  for  daily  use  I 

Alice  came  home  thoughtful,  rebuffing  the  shafts 
of  the  friend.  She  was  really  in  painful  perplexity, 
a  war  of  soul.  She  had  parted  from  Abel  at  the 
gate,  as  she  would  have  parted  from  any  other 
gentleman:  one  such  as  Charles  or  Mr.  Warden, 
who  had  never  put  her  out  by  stealing  a  motor-car 
to  improve  his  social  position,  or  by  trying  to  cut 
his  throat  for  her,  when  he  signally  failed  to  do  so. 
She  chaffed  not  at  all,  nor  shied  at  the  man's  halting 
approaches.     She  looked  him  laughing  in  the  eyes, 


FOREIGN  ADMINISTRATIONS       373 

and  her  own  beautiful  soft  eyes  told  him  that  he  was 
not  so  bad,  and  might  be  worth  forgiving  possibly, — 
some  time, —  at  the  end  of  all.  And  poor  Abel  went 
away  in  beatitude,  trembling  from  head  to  foot, 
neither  a  thief,  nor  a  suicide,  nor  even  an  impish 
monkey,  such  as  Violet  had  seen  on  the  cottage  roof, 
—  but  a  happy,  stupid  man,  with  a  new  chance  at 
the  girl  of  his  heart  granted  by  his  flower-gods, — 
and  Mr.  Gibbs. 

Alice  stood  by  her  mother's  table,  still  in  her 
festal  gown  of  muslin,  and  handled  Abel's  roses,  the 
last  he  had  sent  her  from  the  Glasswell  garden.  She 
had  known,  of  course,  since  the  receipt  of  that  last 
box  by  post,  that  they  were  inhabitants  of  the  Glass- 
well  garden,  the  very  haunts  where  Violet  was 
wandering  now.  The  postmark  on  the  box  had  told 
her  much;  and  she  had  pondered  at  length  over 
former  conversations  in  Lennox's  studio.  She  could 
not  escape  the  echoes  of  a  voice,  soft  and  delicate 
and  decided,  to  which  she  had  never  ceased  from 
the  first  to  listen  curiously.  It  had  taught  her,  in 
these  last  months,  so  many  things.  She  looked  at 
the  roses  —  they  were  fading  now,  for  all  her  careful 
nursing,  and  somehow  the  shell-coloured,  dropping 
petals  reminded  her  of  Violet  —  Violet  that  last  day, 
when  she  had  lain  faint,  but  carelessly  brave,  in 
Alice's  arms.    Violet  had  lain  so  at  the  back  of  her 


374  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

thoughts,  through  all  the  reckless  war  of  her  un- 
tamed impulses  that  afternoon,  for  the  mother- 
nature  is  very  strong  in  such  as  Alice. 

"  I  mean  to  take  him,"  she  said  obstinately,  "  and 
that's  all  of  it.  He'll  have  me,  anyhow,  if  I 
suggest  it." 

"  You  mean  you  intend  to  propose  to  him?  "  said 
Mrs.  Eccles,  struck  with  pious  horror  at  the  idea. 

"  Yes,  Mum, —  for  the  second  time.  You  know," 
added  Alice,  humorously,  "  the  first  time,  it  didn't 
quite  come  off." 

"  Alice,"  said  Mrs.  Eccles,  "  if  you  intend  to  be 
vulgar,  we  shall  never  finish  this  conversation.  I 
am  in  shocking  pain  to-night," —  Alice  had  been  out 
at  tea-time,  it  may  be  mentioned, —  "  and  it  is  all  I 
can  do  to  talk  to  you." 

"  Don't  then,"  said  Alice.  "  You  know  it's  use- 
less, when  my  mind  is  made  up." 

"  Obstinate,"  moaned  the  mother.  "  I  shall  be  ill 
again,  I  know.     I  ought  to  see  a  doctor." 

"  You'd  do  better  to  attend  to  the  last  you  had," 
said  Alice  meaningly. 

"  Tell  me  this,"  said  Mrs.  Eccles.  "  Have  you 
been  meeting  that  fellow  again,  in  spite  of  my 
advice?  "  She  had  subsided,  huddled  in  a  dressing- 
gown,  on  the  sofa:  but  she  stared  fixedly  at  her 
daughter's  back,  as  she  stood,  tall  and  nobly-formed, 
beside   the   roses.      Mrs.    Eccles    disapproved   per- 


FOREIGN  ADMINISTRATIONS       375 

sistently  of  Alice's  appearance,  and  of  all  it  must 
convey  to  a  world  she  restlessly  suspected.  She  was 
inclined  to  suspect  Alice,  for  having  such  an  appear- 
ance, in  her  less  reasonable  moods;  for  it  is  not  a 
far  cry,  for  a  fool,  from  one  attitude  to  the  other. 
"  You  wicked  girl,"  said  Mrs.  Eccles.  "  Have  you 
been  meeting  him  again,  and  never  telling  me*?  " 

"  Yes,  Mum.  You  never  advised  anything  of  the 
sort,  you  know.  You  left  it  to  me,  very  rightly. 
I  met  him  to-day.  He's  all  right.  He's  left  his 
last  place,  but  he  met  his  old  employer  at  the  Show, 
and  they  talked  a  bit,  and  he's  sure  of  a  good  job 
soon.  He  has  lots  of  friends, —  I  never  met  a  man 
with  more,  considering.  He  wants  to  set  up  on  his 
own  as  soon  as  may  be, —  had  better,  I  should  say. 
He's  a  clever  fellow  at  his  trade,  I  never  doubted 
that." 

"  Have  you  met  him  before  this?  "  The  accusing 
voice  was  monotonously  persistent. 

"  No,"  said  the  girl  carelessly.  "  I  came  across 
him,  that's  all.    No  escape." 

"  And  Mr.  Shovell, —  and  his  love  for  you.  His 
sacrifices " 

"  Don't  talk  to  me  of  sacrifices,"  said  Alice  in- 
dignantly. "  Mr.  Shovell's  the  sort  sacrifices  others, 
all  their  lives.  Not  but  what  I  like  him,"  she  added 
slowly.  "  He's  a  dear,  in  his  way;  but  he's  not  the 
dear  for  me.    I  couldn't  do  it." 


376  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

"  Why  not?  " 

"  I  couldn't.  Don't  talk  to  me,  Mum.  It's  so  bad 
for  you  to  be  angry,  and  I  shall  make  you,  you 
know,  if  you  go  on." 

"  I  will  go  on.  I  will  know  about  this.  You  have 
been  working  behind  my  back.  You  heartless  girl,  I 
believe  it  is  simply  because  I  toil  for  your  good  you 
turn  against  me." 

"  Drop  it,  Mother."  The  girl  spoke  under  her 
breath.  Alice  was  long-suffering,  but  she  had  borne 
much  from  that  voice.  After  a  pause  she  made  a 
new  effort,  and  pursued.  "  You  could  live  with  us. 
Mum,  you  know.  Abel  always  thought  a  lot  of 
you."  This  was  a  perfectly  genuine  element  in  her 
decision;  but  it  rang  a  little  falsely  to  her  mother's 
ear,  simply  because  the  tone  was  unsteady.  Alice 
could  hardly  reckon  with  her  temper  when  she  was 
tired:  she  knew  it  and  was  nervous. 

"  Don't  flatter  me,"  cried  Mrs.  Eccles,  furiously, 
"  I  am  not  to  be  deluded  by  fair  words.  You  do. 
this  in  despite  of  me,  on  purpose.  You  intend  to  kill 
me,  I  shouldn't  wonder.  That  is  what  you  want. 
You  monster  of  ingratitude."  .  .  .  She  talked 
a  little  longer  in  the  same  vein,  Alice  waiting  for 
her.  "  Tell  me  this,"  she  said  at  last,  "  what  ap- 
pointments have  you  made  with  that  fellow?  Tell 
me  that." 

"  Appointments'?    None.     Ask  Flo." 


FOREIGN  ADMINISTRATIONS      377 

"  I  will  not  ask  her.  You  are  to  answer  me.  How 
did  he  persuade  you  to  it?  How  could  he  at  all, 
unless  you  have  been  meeting  in  a  clandestine 
manner, —  yes,  or  corresponding,  with  all  my  care. 
With  all  the  labour  I've  spent  on  you,  Alice,  to  turn 
round  on  me  like  this.  And  when  I  am  suffering  so, 
—  what  did  Abel  say?  " 

"  Nothing  to  the  point,"  said  Alice,  "  as  usual." 
She  waited  anew,  mastering  herself.  "  Abel's  all 
right,"  she  repeated,  using  the  form  she  had  used  to 
Violet.  "  You've  told  me  so  often  enough,  anyhow. 
He's  shaky  a  bit  in  the  upper  department,  but  there's 
no  harm  in  him  really.  Anyway,  I  can  manage  very 
well  for  two.  I  have  always  been  pretty  sure  I 
could  manage  him,  once  married.  It's  marrying  does 
the  job."  She  bit  her  lip.  "  I  expect  I  had  better 
be  married,  anyhow.     .     .     .     There  are  reasons." 

With  that  she  sat  down,  as  though  she  could  stand 
no  longer. 

Mrs.  Eccles,  on  the  sofa,  glared  at  her.  No  doubt 
a  girl  more  skilled  in  language  and  what  it  tradi- 
tionally conveys  would  have  avoided  the  last  phrase; 
but  Alice,  tossed  by  tempests,  had  no  time  to  weigh 
phrases.  Between  mothers  and  daughters,  as  a  rule, 
such  anxious  attention  to  the  spoken  formula  is  not 
necessary.  But  she  had  failed  to  follow  her  mother's 
drift  in  the  interrogatory,  though  she  would  have 
done  so  now,  had  she  looked  round.     There  is  but 


378  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

one  look  between  women,  to  convey  a  certain  thing. 
Mrs.  Eccles'  look  conveyed  that  suspicion  unmis- 
takably. 

"  Alice ! "  she  said,  after  an  interval  of  sheer 
breathlessness,  between  her  teeth.  She  was  as  white 
as  death. 

The  girl  turned  sharply.  She  saw  the  expression, 
saw  she  was  disbelieved,  discredited,  unsupported 
in  the  hardest  struggle  of  her  life,  and  insulted,  as 
well,  with  the  worst  insult  an  honest  girl  knows, 
from  the  last  quarter  a  girl  has  the  right  to  expect; 
and  the  tiger  in  her,  so  long  mastered  with  success, 
flashed  out.  It  flashed  first  visibly  in  her  face,  with 
something  of  the  red  fire  she  had  seen  once  on  the 
face  of  her  cousin  Abel. 

She  fell  on  her  mother,  and  shook  her  with  both 
hands.  It  said  a  good  deal,  considering  the  blood 
in  her  veins,  and  the  feebleness  of  the  thing  beneath 
her  clutch,  for  her  training  and  self-mastery,  that  she 
did  not  kill  her  then  and  there. 

But  Mrs.  Eccles,  screaming  feebly,  shrank  away, 
far  too  poor  in  spirit  to  face  that  noble  storm 
she  had  aroused;  and  the  girl,  despairing  of  her,  let 
her  fury  fall  almost  as  soon  as  she  had  seized  it,  and 
dropped  beside  her  against  the  couch,  her  head  upon 
her  folded  arms.  It  was  a  sight  for  the  gods  to 
witness  and  lament,  that  humiliation  of  beauty  and 
power,  both  at  their  zenith,  before  weakness  and 


FOREIGN  ADiMINISTRATIONS       379 

silly  degeneration.  Alice  had  committed  murder, 
no  doubt,  in  the  eyes  of  the  calm  eternal  judges, 
the  philosophers  who  watch  our  troubled  life,  for  in 
that  flash  of  time,  she  had  wished  her  mother  dead. 
Only  the  ultimate  judge  of  all,  we  may  trust,  will 
be  fairer  to  life  and  its  deserts  than  that. 

Mrs.  Eccles  did  not  die,  of  course;  such  charac- 
ters do  not  die  easily.  Alice  nursed  her  all  night, 
for  she  had  a  sharp  attack  of  the  illness  that  watched 
on  her  excesses,  like  a  wolf  waiting  to  spring.  The 
girl  sent  an  excuse  down  to  Lennoxes,  by  the  hands 
of  a  trustworthy  friend  who  passed  that  way. 
Charles  came  during  the  day,  having  heard  the  news : 
a  humbled  suppliant  Charles,  very  kind,  very  sorry 
for  her,  and  rather  hopeless  for  himself.  Alice  saw 
him  for  a  few  minutes  and  did  not  keep  him  waiting 
for  the  truth.  She  told  him  simply  that  she  was 
going  to  be  married,  and  he  must  cease  to  think  of 
her.  She  added  that  she  was  seeing  nobody,  could 
think  of  no  man  for  the  minute,  since  her  mother 
was  so  ill.  That  was  faint  consolation  to  miserable 
Charles.  She  looked  lovely,  but  subdued  and  har- 
assed. She  used  the  big  sister's  manner, —  much 
what  she  had  used  of  old  to  her  first  love,  little  Kit, 
—  barely  thinking  what  she  was  doing  the  while. 
But  it  was  natural  art,  for  it  softened  his  despair  to 
vague  remorse.    He  tried  to  suggest  devices  to  help 


38o  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

her,  tried  to  hint  at  resources,  all  his  fortune,  at  her 
call,  felt  he  was  failing  miserably  in  all  he  did  and 
said,  and  left  her. 

He  went  home  to  his  lodging,  and  very  probably 
cried;  but  there  is  no  need  to  follow  his  proceedings, 
for  Charles  in  love  was  not  peculiar,  nor  notable  in 
any  way.  But  the  thing  on  which,  after  many  and 
tormenting  reflections,  he  did  ultimately  decide,  was 
very  far,  as  matters  eventuated,  from  the  worst  he 
could  have  done.  Two  letters,  quoted  entire,  may 
finish  his  first  love-story  for  the  curious;  though  we 
warn  the  curious,  for  his  sake,  that  the  first  docu- 
ment cannot  be  said  to  be  in  the  best  style  of  its 
celebrated  author. 

He  wrote  to  Violet,  on  the  day  succeeding  that  of 
Margery's  engagement: 

"  Dear  Miss  Ashwin, 

"  I  happen  to  have  heard  that  your  friend's 
mother,  Mrs.  Eccles,  is  seriously  ill,  and  she  is 
nursing  her  night  and  day.  They  are  two  women 
alone.  I  do  not  know  whether  you  think  tliis  right, 
or  if  you  could  do  anything  about  it  anyhow.  Miss 
Lennox  seems  unable  to  make  her  have  a  doctor, 
which  seems  a  pity. 

*'  Yours  very  sincerely, 

"  Charles  Shovell." 


FOREIGN  ADMINISTRATIONS       381 

Violet  wrote  to  Dr.  Ashwin,  on  the  day  of  Sir 
Rupert  Brading's  funeral: 

"  Father  darling, 

"  I  tremble  to  disturb  your  delicately-balanced 
Programme,  and  I  abase  myself  before  Joliffe, 
but  you  had  both  better  go  to  Brixton  immediately. 
Her  mother  is  in  agonies  again,  she  in  anxiety 
naturally,  and  Charles  in  long-clothes, —  terrified  of 
approaching  you.  Consequently  he  approached  me, 
—  original,  but  I  like  him  for  it.  Address  as 
appended, 

"  V.  I.  A." 

Dr.   Ashwin   wrote   nothing   to   anybody, —  but 
acted  without  delay. 


PART  IV 
HOME  AFFAIRS 


RETURN  TO  THE  CAPITAL 

Miss  Ash  win,  arriving  at  the  paternal  mansion, 
passed  up  the  steps,  and  through  the  open  door. 
Before  the  servant  who  held  it  she  stopped  an 
instant,  stripping  off  her  gloves. 

"How  are  you,  Francis'?"  she  asked  him.  "I 
hope  Boulogne  was  a  success.  I  thought  it  brave  of 
you  to  go  across,  for  such  a  limited  time.  Are  Father 
and  Mother  back  yet,  I  wonder^  " 

"  Dr.  and  Mrs.  Ashwin  are  in  the  drawing-room, 
Miss,"  said  the  footman.  "  They  have  been  back 
since  two  o'clock." 

Violet  shot  across  the  vestibule,  skimmed  up  the 
three  steps  like  a  bird,  and  then  walked  with  much 
grace  and  dignity  across  the  carpeted  hall  to  the 
drawing-room  door.  She  was  delighted  to  be  home, 
and  did  not  always  regard  the  presence  of  the  ser- 
vants sufficiently.  The  result  of  which  behaviour 
was,  that  Francis  retired  to  the  servants'  quarters, 
and  informed  his  world  there  that  Miss  Violet  was 
herself  at  any  rate;  and  then  found  that  Joliffe  had 
reassured  them  as  to  that  already. 


386  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

Dr.  Ashwin  rose,  on  springs,  at  his  daughter's 
entrance,  and  his  wife  said,  "  Already? "  with 
eyebrows  raised.  Violet  made  naturally  for  her 
father,  and  then  recollected  herself,  and  swerved, 
nearly  as  naturally,  to  her  mother's  side.  Eveleen 
kissed  her  and  said  she  was  looking  well.  Eveleen 
herself  was  looking  well,  extraordinarily,  full  length 
in  a  low  chair;  but  Violet  rather  doubted,  from  her 
expression,  if  her  father  had  been  having  a  good 
time.  "  I  told  them  one  extra  for  dinner,"  said 
Violet  politely.  "  I  hope  that  was  all  right?  I  also 
told  Francis  he  could  eliminate  the  place,  after  the 
first  bell,  if  necessary." 

Eveleen  said  it  would  not  be  necessary:  and  her 
husband's  mouth  twitched  as  the  girl  passed  to  his 
inviting  arm.  She  laid  her  head  back  against  it, 
and  he  bent  his  to  look  at  her.  It  was  Claude's  own 
peculiar  scrutiny, —  and  yet  different  from  that  he 
used  to  others.  It  was  yearning,  even  hungry,  a 
little, —  "  il  la  couvait  des  yeux,"  in  our  neighbours' 
charming  expression. 

"All  right?"  he  murmured.  She  assented  as 
quietly,  not  to  provoke  her  mother  further.  Yet  she 
observed,  as  she  assented,  that  all  was  barely  right 
with  him.  A  strong  man  cannot  pass  through  a 
sultry  season  at  full  stretch,  with  only  five  days' 
holiday,  and  those  da5^s  of  torment  by  pin-pricks, 
and  not  show  the  unnatural  strain  a  little;  Claude 


HOME  AFFAIRS  387 

had  never  been  a  strong  man,  though  he  was  called 
indefatigable,  as  a  jest,  by  all  his  acquaintance. 

"  Tell  me,"  Violet  entreated  him  breathlessly. 
"  Mother  will  excuse.  I  am  simply  expiring  to 
know." 

"  You  may  prevent  her  expiring,"  said  Eveleen, 
watching  them. 

"  I  followed  orders,"  said  Dr.  Ashwin,  "  so  far  as 
I  had  them.  It  was  a  stiff  day  for  Joliffe,  but  I 
think  he  has  forgiven  you.  He  had,  among  other 
things,  to  act  as  ambulance,  which  is  his  particular 
aversion.  I  practically  ordered  the  woman  to  hos- 
pital.   The  girl  was  straining  herself  for  no  reason." 

"  Obstinacy,"  agreed  Violet.  "  I  know.  Then, 
will  the  mother  be  all  right?  " 

"  Eventually,"  he  said,  glancing  at  Eveleen.  "  It 
will  be  a  longish  business, —  till  Christmas  probably. 
After  that  she  must  get  away  to  the  country." 

"  To  Devonshire,"  nodded  Violet.  She  instantly 
assumed  an  operation,  from  his  look.  "  Very  good, 
I  will  see  to  that  part.  Thank  you  enormously. 
Father.  It  is  quite  a  load  off  my  mind.  You  were 
not  very  cutting  to  the  poor  dear,  I  trust"?  " 

"  To  which  poor  dear"?  " 

"  Either  of  them." 

Claude  reflected  conscientiously.  "  To  the  elder, 
I  may  have  been.  I  simply  cannot  stand  that  type, 
in  life." 


388  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

"  Only  in  an  old  red  book,"  said  Violet.  "  No,  I 
agree  with  you  completely.  Mrs.  Nick  the  second 
is  not  even  amusing." 

"  What  are  you  talking  about?  "  said  Eveleen, 
who  knew  quite  well.  "  It  might  be  better  manners 
to  explain." 

"  The  Eccles  affair,"  her  husband  said.  "  What 
I  was  telling  you  at  Bering." 

"  Oh  yes,"  said  Eveleen  coldly.  She  had  heard 
quite  enough  of  Alice  Eccles,  as  a  fact. 

"  It  was  necessary  to  speak  of  it,"  he  explained 
to  Violet,  "  because  it  affects  your  mother  as  well. 
She  has  borne,  however,  with  the  arrangement." 

"What*?"  —  Violet  draw  up  her  head,  and  re- 
garded him  startled. 

"  I  hope  I  have  not  done  wrong,"  he  said,  grow- 
ing more  apologetic  at  the  look.  "  But  she  could  not 
possibly  be  in  that  wretched  place  alone.  She  her- 
self was  the  only  person  who  did  not  see  it  was 
out  of  the  question."  Violet  was  still  gazing, 
motionless.  "  Don't  say  I  have  put  my  foot  in  it," 
he  said.    "  I  fetched  her  here." 

"Here?    Alice?     In  this  house? " 

"  In  your  mother's  room,  I  think,  at  this  minute. 
Your  mother  has  seen  her,  I  believe.  She  has  been 
here  with  the  caretaker,  quite  contented,  at  least 
I  trust  so.  I  thought  the  woman  seemed  all  right. 
I  begged  Miss  Alice  to  use  the  books  and  so  on,  but 


HOME  AFFAIRS  389 

I  was  rather  short  of  time.  I  had  to  leave  most  of 
it  to  her  own  good  nature." 

"  Complete,  as  usual,"  murmured  Violet.  She 
had  coloured  visibly  pink.  Then,  unable  to  bear  it 
longer,  she  flew  at  his  neck,  and  embraced  him  with 
the  fiercest  ardour  of  which  a  quite  young  woman 
is  capable. 

"  Violet !  "  Eveleen  exclaimed. 

"  Oh  goodness, —  I  am  sorry.  Mother,  dear,"  she 
answered,  clinging  to  him  and  being  clung  to.  "  It 
is  gratitude,  simply.  Pure,  cold  gratitude,  didn't 
you  observe'?  And  artistic  appreciation.  He  does 
finish  things  you  give  him  so  gratuitously,  doesn't 
he?  I  ought  to  expect  it  always,  but  I  don't. 
.  .  .  Dear,  I  must  go, —  do  you  mind  terribly'? 
I  will  tell  you  all  about  your  Gibbses  after  ten." 

"  Why  not  my  Gibbses  after  dinner*? "  said 
Claude,  retaining  her. 

"  Oh, —  because  M.  de  Fervolles  is  so  bored  by 
details  of  English  rustic  life.  Gracious  I"  added 
Violet,  putting  a  hand  to  her  head,  "  this  will  make 
five  places.  I  must  speak  to  unfortunate  Francis 
again." 

"  You  need  not,"  said  Eveleen.  *'  Miss  Eccles  is 
doing  work  for  me  upstairs,  as  it  happens.  They 
have  arranged  about  her  meals." 

"  Oh,  the  little  horror,"  said  Violet,  stopping. 
"  Wouldn't  she  come  on  any  other  terms?    Father, 


390  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

I  thought  better  of  you  than  that.  Did  she  bully 
you,  after  all^" 

"  Don't  be  nonsensical,  Violet,"  said  Eveleen 
sharply. 

"  She  bullied  me  intermittently,"  said  Dr.  Ashwin 
quietly.  "  She  really  is  an  opinionated  young  party. 
She  has  work  to  do  for  herself  as  well,  I  gathered. 
You  had  better  go  and  tackle  her.  Pussy,  that's 
the  best." 

Violet  went,  her  face  still  pink  and  her  heart 
thumping.  What  could  that  last  remark  of  her 
father's  about  work  be  taken  to  imply  ^  What  Mr. 
Gibbs  called  his  obscurantist  methods  were  rather 
tomenting,  especially  when  one's  thoughts  were 
already  in  a  whirl.  What  could  such  a  phrase 
have  meant  but  one  thing,  anyhow"? 

Alice,  in  black,  was  working  in  Mrs.  Ashwin's 
room.  Her  beautiful  head  was  bent,  and  she  stroked 
with  her  needle  at  intervals,  in  a  pretty  skilful 
manner,  the  ruffles  she  was  attaching  to  a  trail  of 
white  she  held.  Violet's  entrance  on  the  soft  carpets 
was  spirit-like,  but  she  turned.  Just  a  quick  work- 
woman's turn  of  head,  for  it  was  a  servant  she 
expected. 

"  Time  to  clear  out "  she  was  beginning. 

Then  she  ceased,  dropped  her  hands,  and  coloured 
gloriously,  far  more  gloriously  than  Violet  at  her 
best   could   ever   have    accomplished.      Her   work 


HOME  AFFAIRS  391 

slipped  off  her  knee  to  the  floor,  and  she  spread  her 
splendid  arms  abroad.  Miss  Ashwin  went  straight 
to  her,  and  fell  upon  her  breast. 

"  It's  all  right,  lovey, —  don't  you  be  anxious," 
said  Alice,  when  she  had  clasped  her  a  little,  in 
sheer  joy  at  having  her  again.  "  I've  made  it  up 
with  Abel,  and  we're  getting  married  quietly  next 
week.  I'm  awfully  behind  with  my  work,  what 
with  my  mother's  goings-on,  and  then  your  mother's 
on  top.  But  I  thought, —  perhaps  when  she  gets 
here,  she'll  help  me  in  odd  times.  Your  white  work 
was  always  beautiful,  whatever  might  be  said  about 
the  rest." 

She  spoke  at  length,  deliberately,  soothing  with 
her  hands  the  while,  for  the  younger  girl  was  pant- 
ing, striving  vainly  for  breath  to  say  a  word.  Alice 
was  anxious,  in  dread  almost,  till  she  spoke,  in  her 
own  soft  tone. 

"  How  sweet, —  how  very  sweet  of  you  to  come !  " 

"  Don't  I  I  was  trembling,  I  can  tell  you.  Com- 
ing like  that  behind  your  back  and  all.  The  cheek 
of  it,  I  thought,  in  the  cab  I  But  really,  you  know, 
your  father  didn't  give  me  a  chance,  first  or  last. 
He's  like  a  draught  about  the  place,  upsetting  every- 
thing, and  catching  you  unexpectedly.  He  has  that 
way  of  slipping  in  questions  —  just  like  you  —  so 
you  let  the  thing  out  you  don't  mean  to,  every  time. 
I  can't  stick  that  habit,"  said  Alice,  indignantly. 

"  Cunning,  isn't  it*?    He  is  a  nuisance,"  admitted 


392  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

Violet,  "  when  you  want  to  hide  things.  I  have 
disliked  him  myself,  before  now." 

"  I  didn't  want  to  hide  mother,"  said  Alice.  "  But 
I'd  sooner  not  have  had  her  go  to  hospital,  in  the 
state  she  was.  That's  what  I  wanted  him  to  see. 
You  don't  know  who  mightn't  hear  her  talking. 
She  had  fits  she  thought  I  was  killing  her  —  and 
that.  Things  I  couldn't  tell  him,  or  any  man, 
really." 

Violet  noticed  the  "  really."  Her  father  had 
heard.  He  almost  invariably  did  hear,  though  the 
subjects  were  hardly  aware  of  it,  and  only  resented 
the  memory  vaguely,  afterwards. 

*'  You  needn't  tell  me,"  she  said  gently. 
"  Doctors  know  best, —  I  mean  when  they  have  been 
through  things.  Father,  you  know,  has  had  an  awful 
time  himself." 

"  Well,"  said  Alice,  "  since  you  say  so,  I  guessed 
it.  You're  not  so  quick  at  making  out  trouble  as  that 
comes  to,  without.  My  goodness,  he's  like  a  knife ! 
I  said  at  last  — '  Well,  Dr.  Ashwin,  if  you  will 
have  it ' —  and  so  on.  .  .  .  He  didn't  stir  an 
eyelid.  He  just  took  my  hands  like  that,  and  looked 
up  the  muscles  of  my  arms,  slowly, —  and  then  at 
my  eyes,  like  a  wrestler  looks.  And  then  he  said  — 
'You  could  have  done  it,  too,' — just  as  if  he  was 
pleased  to  think  it.  I  told  him  I'd  killed  chickens 
on  the  farm " 


HOME  AFFAIRS  393 

The  girl  stopped  shuddering.  She  had  again  said 
more  than  she  had  meant. 

"Why  were  your  arms  bare 9"  said  Violet 
thoughtfully. 

"Why?  I  forget.  .  .  .  He  was  trying  my 
heart,  I  think.  I'd  had  about  enough  that  night 
he  came.  I  daresay  I  was  light-headed  myself  a 
little;  but  I  remember  saying  that, —  and  his  saying 
that, —  and  how  he  put  me  to  bed  after  it.  He's  a 
father  to  have,  anyhow.  .  .  .  And  with  Mum, 
too, —  screaming  silly  as  she  was.  My  word," 
finished  Alice,  "  he's  a  clever  man." 

"  How  —  perfectly  —  frightful,"  said  Violet. 
"And  you  were  all  alone,  poor  Alice?" 

"  Alone,  yes.  That's  nothing.  I've  often  been 
alone.     Loyce    came    next    day    to    see    me, —  she 

was  kind  enough.     But  she's  not  much Good 

gracious,  dear,  there's  your  mother  already."  Alice 
half  rose,  instinctively,  as  the  mistress  of  the  house 
came  into  her  own  apartment.  "  We'll  go  along 
to  your  own  room,  shall  we?  " 

Eveleen  had  no  suggestion  to  offer  in  the  matter. 
She  looked  at  the  girls'  attitude  with  slightly  raised 
brows,  and  then  walked  to  her  dressing-table. 

"What  clever  man?"  she  enquired,  in  her  full, 
easy  tone. 

"  Your  husband,  Mrs.  Ashwin,"  said  Alice 
promptly.     "  I  owe  him  a  great  deal.    I  was  inform- 


394  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

ing  your  daughter,  before  you  came,  of  a  thing  or 
two  that  passed  between  us." 

"  Ah,"  said  Eveleen,  satisfied  apparently.  "  Will 
you  be  so  kind  as  to  come  and  fasten  me.  Miss 
Eccles,  later  on'?  " 

Alice  replied  correctly,  and  then  followed  Violet 
to  the  greater  privacy  of  her  own  apartment,  sniff- 
ing one  single  time  upon  the  way.  She  remarked 
to  Violet  she  hoped  Mrs.  Ashwin  had  not  heard  her 
last  story,  but  Violet  did  not  seem  to  take  the  point. 

The  fact  was  that  Miss  Eccles,  who  had  an  ex- 
quisite sense  of  what  was  incumbent  upon  her  as 
guest  in  the  house,  had  strings  of  thoughts  on  the 
subject  of  its  occupants  to  which  she  did  not  give 
vent  in  words.  An  occasional  sniff  was  the  most 
her  perfect  manners  would  allow.  One  of  the 
thoughts  was,  that  she  had  no  objection  to  Mrs. 
Ashwin's  being  jealous  of  her, —  she  rather  enjoyed 
it  than  otherwise,  and  it  might  be  useful  to  the 
doctor.  Alice  would  have  done  her  host  any  service 
in  her  power,  to  requite  his  recent  services  to  her; 
and  she  judged  that  diverting  his  wife's  attention 
from  her  flame  of  the  moment  might  very  well  be  a 
serviceable  step.  Alice  had  a  way  of  thinking  and 
judging,  as  we  confessed  before,  in  this  rather  primi- 
tive fashion.  It  was  probably  inherited  from  the 
Eccles'  stock,  and  was  no  fault  of  her  own ;  so  critics 
need  not  press  too  heavily  upon  the  failing. 


II 

A    TIGER-LILY 

On  reaching  \'iolet's  room,  Miss  Eccles  sat  on 
Violet's  bed,  and  watched  the  girl  begin  her  toilet, 
clasping  her  knees  the  while,  and  treating  herself  to 
a  superior  survey  of  her  surroundings  from  time  to 
time.  She  thought  the  room  "  peculiar," —  but  then, 
so  was  Violet.  The  daintiness  and  order  of  every- 
thing won  her  approbation,  the  books  she  considered 
might  have  been  more  elegantly  bound,  and  the 
pictures,  after  the  first,  she  preferred  not  to  look 
at  at  all. 

"  Why  don't  you  talk'?  "  said  Violet  presently. 
She  was  dressing  and  unpacking  simultaneously,  in 
haste,  for  she  was  late. 

"  You  might  let  me  look  about,"  said  Alice,  very 
calm. 

"  Haven't  you  been  in  here  before^  " 

"  No,"  said  Alice,  "  I  don't  come  where  I'm  not 
invited." 

"  Thanks,"  said  Violet.  "  That  feels  familiar. 
Do  you  know,  it  is  weeks  since  I  was  really  snubbed. 
My  cousins  are  no  good  at  it.  Do  you  like  the 
colour  of  those  curtains^  " 


396  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

"  Not  much,"  said  Alice.  "  Now  don't  go  and 
make  me  say  what  I  oughtn't  to.  There  are  ever 
so  many  things  I  ought  to  say,  if  I  could  only 
manage." 

She  bit  her  lip.  Violet  glanced  at  her  reflection 
in  the  glass. 

"  Run  some  ribbons  in  those,  will  you*?  "  she  said 
carelessly,  tossing  some  white  things  at  her  friend. 
Alice  settled  to  the  job  contentedly.  She  could 
always  talk  better  when  her  hands  were  occupied. 

"  I  am  curious  about  Abel,"  observed  Violet  soon, 
while  she  brushed  out  her  hair.  "  Did  you  ask  him 
yourself,  Alice^  " 

"  Naturally  I  did,"  said  Alice.  "  There  was  no- 
body else  to  undertake  it,  your  Dad  not  being  about. 
I  led  up  to  it  with  Abel  easily,  in  our  kitchen.  That 
was  just  after  Mum  went, —  Abel  asked  for  her, 
of  course,  and  seemed  disappointed  to  know  he  was 
too  late.  He  admires  Mum  a  good  deal,  you  know, 
—  always  did.  He  would  have  gone  away,  I 
shouldn't  wonder,  but  I  had  him  in.  I  wasn't 
going  to  have  any  nonsense.  A  cousin  and  all,  he 
had  no  reason  to  be  afraid.  .  .  .  Then  I  started. 
I  said, — ''  Abel,  you're  out  of  a  place,' —  he  still 
was  then, —  '  without  a  character, —  and  your  only 
chance  for  another  is  a  decent  wife.'  It  hadn't 
struck  Abel  quite  in  that  light,  so  he  looked  startled. 
So  I  said  —  '  My  idea  is,  Abel,  that  you  had  better 


HOME  AFFAIRS  397 

get  married  to  the  first  decent  girl  that  asks  you.' 
Then  he  took  that  in, —  I  gave  him  time.  Then  he 
took  up  his  hat,  and  tried  to  get  out  of  the  door. 
But  I  nipped  in  between.  I  said  —  '  Hold  up  till  I 
ask  you,  anyhow, —  that's  the  least  a  man  can  do.' 
So  I  asked  him." 

"Did  he  refuse?"  said  Violet  demurely,  as  she 
arranged  her  hair. 

"  No,"  said  Alice.  "  He  didn't  accept  either.  He 
opened  his  mouth." 

"  So  you  supplied  the  answer  too."  Violet  laughed 
into  the  glass.  "  You  funny  girl,"  she  murmured. 

"  Likely  he'd  forgotten  my  name  in  the  interval," 
said  Miss  Eccles  thoughtfully.  "  I  didn't  think  of 
that  till  this  minute.  It  might  account  for  the 
delay  before  he  spoke." 

'■'  I  am  beginning  to  be  perfectly  sure,"  said  Violet, 
"  that  he  followed  you  about  the  kitchen  on  his 
knees.  I  am  certain  he  put  it  beautifully,  anyhow. 
You  are  heartless,  Alice,  really,  to  scoff  at  a  real 
passion  like  that.  I  suspect,"  Violet  added,  in  her 
tranquil  mechanical  tone,  fixing  the  last  curl,  and 
looking  at  the  effect  sidelong,  "  you  do  it  out  of  con- 
sideration for  me :  but  you  need  not." 

Alice  laid  down  the  white  skirt  she  had  finished 
and  looked  at  her,  needle  in  hand.  "  WTiat  I  can't 
see,"  she  said,  "  is  how  anyone  can  help  hugging  you 
on  sight.    Man,  I  mean.    That's  what's  so  odd  about 


398  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

it.    Never  mind."     She  returned  to  her  occupation. 

"  I  do  not,"  said  Violet.  "  Now  go  on  where  you 
left  off.    Weren't  you  sorry  for  poor  Abel,  really*?  " 

"  I  was,  dear,"  said  Alice,  "  and  I  am.  He'll 
have  to  look  alive,  you  see,  from  this  time  forth.  I 
shan't  stand  any  nonsense.  It's  not  likely  he'll  get 
the  farm,  after  the  life  he's  led  them.  His  father 
doesn't  give  in  so  easy,  once  his  back's  up,  and  Jem, 
—  that's  the  next, —  has  his  head  screwed  on  prop- 
erly. Abel'll  have  to  work  and  make  a  home  for  me 
and  mother,  and  that's  what  I  told  him  straight." 

"  And  quite  superfluously,"  said  Violet.  "  I  am 
sure  he  is  aware  of  the  obligation,  and  will  work 
most  splendidly." 

"  I  shouldn't  wonder,"  said  Alice,  and  ceased  her 
occupation,  hanging  thoughtful.  "  I  can  set  people 
to  work,  you  know,"  she  said,  looking  doubtfully 
upon  Violet.  "  That's  what  I'm  good  for."  Then 
her  uncertain  expression  changed  to  keenness  of  a 
sudden.  "  Don't  put  on  that  one,  deary,"  she  ad- 
vised.   "  You'd  look  much  better  in  the  other." 

Miss  Ashwin,  having  concluded  her  coiffure  in 
really  record  time,  was  pondering  her  wardrobe, 
and  hanging  doubtful  between  two  courses,  as  was 
evident. 

"  I  want  particularly  to  look  plain,"  said  Violet, 
"  for  the  Marquis."  She  dived  serenely  into  the 
first  of  the  frocks. 


HOME  AFFAIRS  399 

Miss  Eccles  got  up  from  her  seat  at  once,  and 
snatched  at  it, —  by  which  means  the  girls  faced  one 
another.  The  delicate  satin  robe  dropped  between 
them. 

"  Go  on,"  said  Violet,  lifting  her  eyes,  for  Alice 
was  the  taller.  "  You  set  Abel  working, —  what 
about  Charles?  Didn't  you  make  him  do  so  many 
hours  a  day,  for  leave  to  see  you  in  the  evening? 
That's  like  the  Bible,  a  fine,  ancient  way.  Tell  me 
how  you  managed,  Alice." 

"  I  can't  stand  idlers  about  the  world,"  said  Alice 
between  her  teeth. 

"  Then  you  did.  I  supposed  so  from  Mr.  Warden. 
You  see,  I  know  all  about  it.  You  have  been  the 
saving  of  Charles, —  he  is  doing  splendidl)%  and 
what  is  more  he  is  fond  of  the  work.  Mr.  Warden 
is  struck  —  with  his  own  discernment,  naturally,  not 
knowing  who  had  wound  Charles  up."  A  pause, 
the  taller  and  more  beautiful  girl  looking  by  far  the 
more  abashed  of  the  two,  though  no  sin  but  that  of 
being  loved  had  been  hers.  Violet's  slim  bare  arms 
lifted,  and  her  hands  lay  on  Alice's  shoulders.  "  I 
hope  you  weren't  too  hard  on  him,  Alice  dear,"  she 
said,  smiling,  "  He  has  been  used  at  home  to  care 
and  consideration.  Lilies  that  toil  not  are  con- 
sidered, don't  you  know " 

"  Don't,"  Alice  broke  in.  "  New  Testament,  too, 
and  you  with  an  aunt  in  the  church  I     You  ought 


400  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

to  be  ashamed,  Miss  Ashwin.  ,  .  .  I  can't  stand 
your  acting,  dear,  with  that  smile  on  your  face.  I 
can't  bear  your  face  like  it  is  at  all  this  evening." 

"  Haven't  I  done  my  hair  rather  well*?  I  trusted 
so."    She  made  the  pretty  turn  of  neck  again. 

"  Likely  I'd  consider  him,"  Alice  pushed  furiously 
on.  "  Likely,  isn't  it?  —  with  you  waiting  behind. 
Lilies,  indeed, —  I'm  a  tiger-lily  when  I  like,  I  can 
tell  you.  You  never  saw  me  like  that,  my  pet,  nor 
ever  will,  I  hope.  I'd  have  boxed  his  ears  with 
pleasure  that  first  night.  I  —  I  could  laugh  when  I 
think  now  how  I  went  on, —  and  he  as  bad." 

"  Don't  laugh,  Alice, —  better  not.  Some  laughter 
is  awful,  I  think.  I  am  sure  you  were  a  lovely  tiger- 
lily.    You've  let  him  alone  since  then?  " 

"  He's  kept  off,  yes.  He's  going  straight.  He'll 
not  be  the  worse  for  it  in  the  end,  trust  me.  Men  are 
like  that, —  we've  got  to  get  used  to  them.  Oh  lord, 
me  telling  you  this  I  "  Alice  groaned.  "  I  don't 
know  why  you  make  me  speak.  It  hurts  you  to 
hear,  and  me  to  say, —  and  yet  I  can't  help  it  when 
you  ask  quick  like  that.  .  .  .  Oh,  there's  the 
bell,  my  precious  dear,  and  you  half-dressed !  Now 
you  just  leave  it  and  let  me  manage.  Your  little 
hands  are  shaking,  anyway."  Miss  Eccles  kissed 
them  rapidly  both,  as  they  still  lay  on  her  shoulders. 
"  I  know  what's  pretty  on  you, —  ought  to  know. 
That  black's  not  your  fashion  at  all,  not  for  a  dozen 


HOME  AFFAIRS  401 

years."  She  kicked  it  disdainfully  aside,  and  took 
up  the  silver  dress.  "  There  you  are,"  she  said,  "  like 
a  lot  of  moonbeams.  Yes,  you  may  put  on  your 
shoes.  Now,  where  do  you  keep  your  jewlry, —  I 
never  can  say  that  word.  I'll  Marquis  him,"  mur- 
mured Alice,  between  her  teeth  still  set. 

And  she  did.  That  is,  the  Marquis  de  Fervolles 
looked  some  four  times  at  Violet  that  night,  in  the 
intervals  of  looking  forty  at  her  mother.  She 
certainly  looked  very  charming  in  her  own  eerie 
manner,  when  she  slid  to  her  place  at  table,  ex- 
tremely late,  with  an  apology.  The  Marquis  oppo- 
site wondered  with  some  curiosity  how  she,  whom 
he  had  thought  such  a  child,  had  grown  to  a  woman 
so  swiftly.  She  seemed  absent,  and  joined  little 
in  the  conversation,  since  her  father  was  talking  bril- 
liantly; she  smiled,  and  dropped  a  word  occasionally, 
French  or  English,  just  on  the  level  of  the  dialogue, 
to  sustain  him;  and  she  hardly  glanced  at  M.  de 
Fervolles,  though  he  faced  her.  But  the  Marquis, 
Vv  ho  was  persistent  by  nature,  got  in  a  word  with  her 
later:  for  she  agreed  after  dinner,  at  a  word  from 
her  father,  to  play. 

As  with  ever\'  art  to  which  the  Ashwins  gave 
their  serious  attention,  there  was  no  nonsense  about 
Violet's  playing.  She  was  already,  though  in  the 
bud,  a  very  fine  performer,  the  power  in  her  slim 


402  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

arms  and  fingers  surprising,  the  force  of  feeling 
startling  to  those  who  had  seen  her  only  in  her 
more  languid  moods.  Her  style  was  highly  coloured, 
like  the  bedroom  curtains  of  which  Alice  disapproved. 
Dr.  Ashwin  watched  his  wife's  face  covertly  while 
the  music  proceeded,  but  it  never  changed.  The 
Marquis  turned  from  his  soliloquy  at  Eveleen's  side 
to  look  at  the  girl  with  new,  though  lazy  surprise. 
When  she  ceased,  he  told  her  that  she  was  "  admir- 
ably well-dowered,"  and  he  said  it  seriously,  without 
a  super-added  compliment.  Violet,  who  had  played 
for  her  father,  smiled  wanly  and  shrugged  slightly, 
sitting  lonely  in  the  distance  on  the  stool. 

"  It  is  hardly  a  young  lady's  music,  however," 
chirped  the  Marquis  towards  Eveleen.  "  Tem- 
pestuous, a  trifle,  hein?  " 

"  It  was  loud,"  said  Eveleen. 

"  It  was  an  invocation  to  revolt,"  declared  her 
husband,  in  his  most  definite  manner,  from  the  rear. 

"Aha'?"  said  the  Marquis.  "Revolt'?  And 
directed  to  whom"?  " 

"  Certainly  to  the  English,"  said  Violet  from  the 
distance.     "  The  French  never  need  it,  do  they^  " 

"  But,  Mademoiselle,"  protested  the  interested 
Marquis.  "  You  would  not  summon  Madame  your 
Mamma  to  revolt,  surely"?    Quelle  honte !  " 

"  Pray  do,"  said  Claude.     "  Her  temperament 


HOME  AFFAIRS  403 

even  requires  it  at  intervals.  She  needs,  before  all 
things,  to  be  stirred." 

The  Marquis  answered  with  an  unguarded  plati- 
tude,—  for  he  had  been  suffering  for  some  time  from 
the  fact,  so  he  felt  the  allusion.  He  looked  at  Eve- 
leen,  who  was  engaged  with  a  bracelet-clasp  which 
had  caught,  with  surprising  pertinacity,  in  a  fall 
of  precious  lace.  It  interested  her,  apparently,  rather 
more  than  them. 

Violet  rose,  went  across  to  her  father  in  the  shade, 
and  extending  a  finger  to  him,  said  in  English  — 

"Was  it  enough?" 

"  More  than  enough,"  said  he,  taking  the  finger. 
"  I  had  intended,  before  you  moved,  to  ask  you  to 
play  me  a  Berceuse." 

"  A  Berceuse  I  "  She  threw  back  her  head  and 
laughed, —  her  pretty,  rare  laugh.  Eveleen  glanced 
once  in  their  direction,  as  though  scenting  conspiracy. 
Dr.  Ashwin  was  smiling  too. 

M.  de  Fervolles,  straining  to  follow  English, 
wondered  if  it  could  be  he,  the  father,  after  all, 
to  whom  the  "  Invocation  to  Revolt "  had  been 
addressed.  The  Marquis  trusted  not.  The  Marquis 
was  of  Miss  Maud  Gibbs'  opinion  that  such  young 
girls  should  be  innocent  completely  of  their  elders' 
affairs.  He  quite  longed  for  a  moonlight  sylph  such 
as  this  to  be  unconcerned, —  but  one  could  never  tell 


404  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

in  this  amazing  country.  He  paid  close  attention 
to  the  proceedings  of  the  pair  while  he  waited  for 
Eveleen  to  notice  him  again. 

Dr.  Ashwin,  at  her  approach  from  the  piano,  had 
inconspicuously  laid  aside  his  cigarette.  Violet  took 
it  up  daintily  between  two  iingers,  and  replaced  it 
whence  it  had  been  taken.  It  was  prettily  done, 
and  M.  de  Fervolles  quite  wished  it  had  been  he. 

"  One's  so  gorgeous  to-night,"  confided  Claude, 
in  explanation.  He  touched  her  shimmering  drapery 
curiously. 

"  That's  Alice,"  confided  Violet.  "  Alice,  as  you 
said,  is  an  opinionated  girl.  She  simply  trampled 
the  one  I  meant  to  wear,  and  kicked  it  aside." 

The  Marquis  was  astonished  to  learn  what  the 
English  bear  from  their  servants. 

"  I  had  meant  to  keep  this  for  my  birthday," 
Violet  proceeded,  her  back  still  turned  to  the  visitor. 

"  Oh,  have  another  for  your  birthday,"  said 
Claude. 

"  No,  Father,  no.    I  can-not  afford  it." 

"White,"  said  Claude.  "Not  quite  white. 
W^hiteish." 

"Dirty?"  said  Violet. 

"  Pearl-colour,"  said  the  Marquis  gently  behind. 

"  There,"  said  Violet,  without  turning.  "  M.  de 
Fervolles  knows  the  trade  expression.  Shall  I  make 
Myself  a  pearl-coloured  dress,  Father?    I  am  start- 


HOME  AFFAIRS  405 

ing  work  early  to-morrow,  you  know.  And  it  comes 
cheaper,  considerably." 

A  pause.  \'iolet  had  cornered  him.  He  sought 
desperately  for  a  response. 

"  I  will  order  one  of  the  hrm,"  he  said  at  last, 
"  if  Miss  Alice  will  undertake  the  commission." 

A  second  pause.  He  had  cornered  Violet.  Len- 
noxes had  evidently  conquered  him,  and  her  faith 
in  Alice  was  his.  She  longed  to  express  her  senti- 
ments of  exaltation,  and  to  make  him  feel  them: 
but  the  company  behind  was  not  quite  suitable. 

"Claude,"  said  Eveleen  at  this  juncture,  holding 
out  her  wrist.  She  had  only  by  her  fumbling  made 
confusion  worse  confounded  in  the  quarrel  between 
her  fine  lace,  and  the  bracelet-chain. 

"  Permit  me,"  said  the  Marquis  eagerly;  but  Eve- 
leen, slightly  pouting,  still  held  her  hand  towards 
Claude.  She  knew  exactly  what  men  were  good  for, 
that  expression  said,  and  might  be  left  to  judge.  Her 
husband  rose  after  a  languid  instant,  and  approached 
to  her  service  with  a  smile. 

He  recognised  at  least,  if  de  Fervolles  did  not, 
that  there  had  been  not  the  least  conscious  coquetry 
in  the  movement.  The  lace  and  the  bracelet  merely 
represented  one  of  those  delicate  complications  of 
life,  needing  patience  with  soft  threads,  and  knowl- 
edge of  fine  gold,  to  disentwine  successfully.  The 
Ashwins  possessed  these  qualities,  and  Eveleen  really 


4o6  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

could  not  spare  the  necessary  attention.  She  did  not 
object,  of  course,  by  the  way,  to  the  operator's  fine 
touch  upon  her  arm. 

She  shook  her  wrist  when  it  was  loose,  without 
thanking  him,  and  returned  to  her  desultory  dialogue 
with  the  guest. 

"  It  is  no  use,"  said  Violet,  at  her  most  high- 
strung,  to  Alice  later,  "it  is  no  use  talking  to  me 
about  Mother.  Mother  is  Divine.  I  saw  Father 
thinking  so  at  the  same  time  as  I  did.  We  are  all 
perfect  pigmies, —  grimacing  pigmies, —  compared 
with  her.  .  .  .  She  put  the  Marquis  out  four 
times, —  I  counted,  darling, —  by  missing  his  point 
altogether.  I  am  really  sorry  for  the  man,  some- 
times." 


m 

THE    BIRTHDAY 


None  of  the  Glasswell  contingent,  except  the  Rector 
and  Charles,  came  to  Violet's  birthday  party.  The 
Rector,  on  the  arrival  of  the  invitation,  left  his 
wife  to  choose  her  line;  and  Mrs.  Gibbs,  by  now 
most  resolutely  on  Violet's  side,  wrote  a  letter  so 
keenly  worded,  that  even  Eveleen  could  not  pretend 
to  misunderstand  it ;  and  which  made  her  very  angry 
indeed  for  the  three  minutes  before  she  burnt  it. 
After  that  Mrs.  Gibbs  returned  calmly  to  her  occu- 
pation; though  she  admitted,  from  the  educational 
point  of  view,  that  it  would  be  good  for  Maud  to  go. 
The  Rector  actually  stayed  in  the  house,  since 
the  dance  was  to  be  late,  and  Eveleen  saw  no  way 
to  avoid  him.  She  did  not  care  for  Mr.  Gibbs, 
which  was  ungrateful,  considering  his  rapt  interest 
in  her.  He  belonged,  as  he  had  said  himself,  to  the 
"  other  party,"  the  party  that  had  tried  to  dissuade 
Claude  from  his  marriage;  and  Eveleen,  calm  as 
she  was,  never  forgave  such  things.  She  disliked 
the  girls  too,  vaguely, —  Margery's  prettiness  and 


4o8  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

natural  elegance  always  vexed  her;  but  fortunately 
Margery  was  detained,  or  detained  herself  for 
Robert's  sake,  at  Newnham  College;  and  Maud, 
despite  all  the  cunning  persuasions  of  her  circle,  and 
a  new  dress,  turned  shy  at  the  ultimate  moment  and 
refused  to  move. 

Various  other  people  failed  as  well, —  young 
Brading  was  in  mourning,  and  the  heir  of  the  Der- 
ings,  a  likely  youth  and  fond  of  Eveleen,  had  quar- 
relled with  the  Marquis  de  Fervolles  at  Bering  Park, 
and  was  sulking  rather  badly.  His  brother  Bill 
came,  though,  and  his  sister  Joan, —  a  young  person 
of  breezy  spirits  and  a  high  voice  who  had  a  mission 
for  "  waking  up  "  the  world,  only  counteracted  in 
this  particular  house  by  a  reverential  awe  for  Violet's 
cleverness. 

Of  the  guests,  Mr.  Gibbs  came  first,  towards  seven 
o'clock,  and  found  Violet  and  Claude  in  the  drawing- 
room.  Charles,  who  arrived  shortly  after,  had  been 
gracefully  asked  by  the  family  to  meet  his  step- 
father, and  would  far  sooner  have  avoided  the 
necessity. 

Charles  was  recovering  slowly  from  his  infatua- 
tion, but,  in  his  convalescent  state,  he  felt  nervous  of 
everj^body,  and  shy  above  all  of  a  chance  meeting 
with  Alice.  He  took  precautions  on  the  present  occa- 
sion, and  made  enquiries,  discovering  from  Miss 
Lennox  finally,  to  his  great  relief,  that  though  Mrs. 


HOME  AFFAIRS  409 

Peacock  had  for  some  time  returned  from  her  honey- 
moon, she  was  very  much  engaged  at  home;  for 
Abel  and  Alice  had,  by  a  lucky  stroke,  got  the  old 
house  at  Brixton  off  their  hands,  and  had  taken 
another  at  Wimbledon,  near  which  locality  Abel 
had  his  new  garden.  Thus  Alice,  what  with  house- 
moving,  and  her  mother  still  in  hospital,  was  much 
taken  up,  and  was  only  to  drop  in  at  Harley  Street, 
according  to  Miss  Lennox,  to  dress  Miss  Ashwin, 
early. 

Charles  trusted  he  was  not  early,  and  so  had 
safely  escaped  all  chance  of  seeing  her.  But,  alas  I 
when  he  came,  the  daughter  of  the  house  was  still 
too  evidently  not  dressed.  On  the  contrary,  she 
still  wore  the  artist's  pinafore  of  blue  linen,  which 
she  had  donned  to  finish  the  decorations  in  the  hall, 
and  thus  enveloped  and  disguised,  she  was  sitting 
on  the  Rector's  knee,  and  being  teased  by  him  with 
great  complacency. 

"Oh,  Charles,  how  nice,"  said  Violet:  gave  him 
two  fingers,  and  turned  to  her  uncle  again. 

And  this  leads  us  to  the  most  painful  part  of  our 
confession  of  the  revised  circumstances  with  which 
we  have  to  deal.  Violet  was  not,  at  this  period, 
treating  Charles  very  nicely.  She  did  not  even  give 
him  the  close  and  comforting  attention,  the  soft 
sympathy,  upon  which  he  had  quite  learned  to  count, 
during  the  early  part  of  their  acquaintance.     She 


410  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

never  supplied  him  with  words  or  meanings  when  he 
hesitated.  She  never  softened  by  a  sweet  suggestion 
the  attacks  of  others.  She  went  through  all  the 
forms  with  him  pleasantly,  but  just  as  she  would 
have  done  with  any  other  man.  She  was  infinitely 
more  cordial  and  mischievous,  Charles  noticed  with 
surprised  disgust,  with  her  father's  secretary  than  she 
was  with  him.  She  seemed  to  be  looking  a  little 
beyond  him  all  the  time,  and  only  reminding  herself 
at  intervals  of  a  cousinly  duty.  In  short,  she  ap- 
peared to  have  studied  Charles  very  completely,  ex- 
tracted the  last  crumb  of  interest  and  amusement  the 
perusal  could  afford,  and  dropped  the  book.  This 
is  an  exasperating  situation  for  a  man ;  especially  if 
the  perusal  has  been  abandoned,  too  evidently,  for 
that  of  other  and  newer  publications. 

Agitating  reports  eddied  about  London,  and  came 
to  Mr.  Sho veil's  ears  through  friends,  of  this  match 
or  that  being  under  consideration,  of  this  title  or  that 
being  destined  by  the  astonishingly  successful  doctor 
for  his  only  daughter.  There  was  a  Frenchman,  for 
instance,  Charles  heard  of  recently  for  the  first  time. 
He  examined  his  stepfather  and  Mr.  Warden  both 
cautiously  on  the  subject,  and  found  they  had  both 
known  of  this  aspirant  —  Mr.  Warden  of  several 
others  as  well, —  for  ages  past,  and  taken  him  quite 
for  granted.  Their  general  attitude  of  thinking 
nothing  too  high  for  Violet  was  surprising  to  Charles. 


HOME  AFFAIRS  41 1 

He  had  the  misfortune  to  meet  the  Frenchman 
at  the  Ashwins',  betrayed  an  inadequate  knowledge 
of  the  tongue  he  used,  and  despised  him  bitterly  in 
consequence.  Yet  the  Frenchman  could  not  be  said 
to  be  a  lout,  did  look  at  Violet  rather  often,  and 
made  remarks  to  her  to  which  she  seemed  to  find 
response  worth  while.  Very  often,  now,  she  never 
responded  to  Charles'  sallies  at  all;  and  sometimes 
when  she  did,  she  gave  him  to  understand  he  was 
rather  childish. 

Yet  he  was  talking  better,  if  anything,  than  in  the 
spring;  for  he  felt  a  responsible  man  now,  held  a 
conspicuous  post  in  a  celebrated  publishing  house, 
belonged  to  a  literary  club, —  and  was  understood 
by  several  of  his  male  acquaintance  to  have  been 
through  a  love  affair.  It  must  rapidly  be  appended, 
however,  to  Charles'  credit,  that  though  the  Eccles 
affair  would  have  been  a  real  asset  to  his  standing, 
in  the  opinion  of  a  number  of  these  new  acquaint- 
ances, he  did  not  boast  of  it  at  all.  He  "  made  a 
point  of  never  alluding,"  indeed,  according  to  the 
best  standards  of  Alice's  Brixton  fraternity.  So  he 
had  learned  something  by  the  hot  experience,  at  least. 

Violet,  it  seemed  on  his  entrance,  was  on  the 
still  vexed  question  of  a  gift  she  had  received  that 
morning. 

"  Simply  suicidal,  isn't  if?  "  Charles  overheard  in 
her  bitter  tone.     "  No  efforts  of  mine  will  save  him 


412  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

now.  I  told  the  kitchen  to-day  that,  economically 
speaking,  I  cut  the  rope.  What  do  you  suppose, 
Uncle  Arthur,  I  can  do  with  a  thing  like  that*?  " 

"  Wear  it,"  the  Rector  suggested. 

"  Once  in  ten  years,  perhaps,"  said  Violet.  "  And 
in  between*?  " 

"  Put  it  in  your  mother's  box,"  said  Claude  from 
the  rear.    Violet  did  not  hear  him,  apparently, 

"I  shall  have  to  wear  them  to-night,  of  course; 
but  I  shall  be  miserable  all  the  time.  Wretched  I 
And  nobody  will  look  at  me,  myself^  I  mean,  Uncle 
Arthur,  at  all.  People  who  present  jewellery  never 
seem  to  consider  that.  And  there  is  Alice's  frock  — 
just  divine,  as  even  Mother  admits;  and  I  do  want 
to  advertise  the  firm.  You  know  something  of  ad- 
vertisement. Uncle  Arthur " 

"Do  I?"  said  the  Rector,  panic-stricken. 
"How?" 

"Well, —  missions  and  such  things.  Don't  you*? 
Take  Bazaars.  Your  reason  will  tell  you  that  if  you 
want  to  advertise,  at  a  Church  Bazaar,  a  handker- 
chief worked  by  Maud,  you  would  not  stick  the 
CuUinan  diamond  just  beside  it.  However  preju- 
diced in  favour,  I  mean,  the  eye  would  slip  aside." 

"  So  would  the  diamond,  very  soon,"  said  the 
Rector.    "  After  all,  I  should  not  be  wretched  long." 

"  Charles "  said  Violet,  making  the  gentle- 
man her  father  was  addressing  start, —  "  Charles  has 


HOME  AFFAIRS  413 

offered  to  be  a  detective,  and  keep  his  eyes  fixed 
firmly  on  me  to-night.  But  goodness,  I'd  never 
trust  Charles  at  that,  would  you?  " 

Both  the  Rector  and  the  doctor  laughed  at  this 
sally,  and  Charles  looked  even  more  than  necessarily 
out  of  countenance.  He  thought  it  almost  pert, 
privately, —  from  a  girl. 

"  Ladies  owning  pearls  had  far  better  have  a  legal 
protector,"  said  the  Rector.  "  I  mean  to  say,  of 
course,  a  professional  one." 

"  I  have  —  not  —  quite  decided,"  said  Miss  Ash- 
win,  with  a  nice  air  of  balancing  the  suggestion. 

Charles  wished  his  stepfather  would  not.  His 
own  family  at  least  might  show  more  feeling  for 
him.  The  only  person  present  with  any  considera- 
tion at  all  was  the  last  he  would  have  expected, — 
his  host.  Dr.  Ashwin,  of  whom  he  had  been 
infinitely  more  terrified  than  anybody,  when  he 
summoned  his  scattered  courage  for  the  first  time 
after  his  divagation,  and  called  at  the  house,  had 
been  extremely  careful  with  him;  really  anxious, 
one  would  have  said,  to  make  his  acquaintance.  It 
was  not  unfathomable,  really,  since  Lucas  Warden 
had  warned  him  of  Charles'  unpretentious  talents, 
probably;  and  the  doctor  wished,  with  the  best 
intentions,  to  induce  him  to  shine.  Charles  hoped 
he  had  pleased  Dr.  Ashwin  in  various  short  and 
carefully-studied  conversations,  but  he  never  knew. 


414  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

When  Lucas  Warden  was  there  as  well,  Dr.  Ashwin 
generally  answered  Warden,  comprising  Charles  in 
the  answer,  as  it  were.  When  they  were  tete-a-tete 
he  frequently  looked  beyond  Mr.  Shovell,  at  other 
people,  while  he  replied.  He  was  watching  his 
daughter,  and  listening  to  her,  evidently,  all  the 
time  he  discussed  the  newer  publications  with 
Charles,  People  who  did  two  things  at  once,  both 
well,  were  foreign  to  Charles'  experience  and  his 
sympathy;  and  he  trusted  that  Violet  had  not 
inherited  a  tendency  to  these  rather  cheap  theatrical 
effects. 

Yet  he  began  to  doubt  it,  as  soon  as  the  talk 
became  general.  She  was  certainly  witty, —  up  to 
her  father  again  and  again.  They  had  the  air  of 
two  good  fencers,  well  in  practice,  and  regarded  as  a 
game,  it  was  pretty  enough  to  attend  to.  It  was 
when  it  became  warfare,  that  Charles  objected;  for 
women,  as  a  general  rule,  should  never  take  the 
buttons  off  their  foils,  or  at  least  with  a  male  oppo- 
nent. They  are  known  to  pink  one  another,  that  is 
a  favourite  witticism  at  their  expense. 

Violet  was  excited,  of  course,  as  birthday  ladies 
often  are.  The  pearls,  or  her  uncle's  unaccustomed 
presence  under  the  roof,  may  have  been  responsible, 
—  or  even  the  somewhat  crushing  labours  in  store. 
For  Violet,  as  usual,  had  the  principal  burden  of 
the    entertainment    and    the    arrangements    for    it 


HOME  AFFAIRS  415 

upon  her  shoulders.  Her  mother  considered,  no 
doubt,  that  she  had  done  quite  enough  in  originating 
the  idea  of  the  party.  Genius  as  a  rule  originates, 
and  ordinary  restless  talent  carries  out  the  scheme. 
Beyond  the  first  inspiration  of  it,  Eveleen's  efforts 
for  the  great  occasion  had  been  confined  to  giving 
up  the  long  drawing-room  to  dancers :  and  to  vetoing, 
beyond  any  further  question,  certain  guests.  Violet 
and  Claude,  she  supposed,  could  do  the  rest  between 
them. 

Mrs.  Ashwin  herself  came  in  before  the  discussion 
could  become  too  dangerously  clever,  and  put  an 
end  to  all  danger  of  the  kind  by  her  appearance  quite 
successfully.  Eveleen  was  a  resplendent  vision,  with 
several  shimmering  scarves  disguising  her  bare  throat 
and  arms,  for  she  was  dressed.  The  Rector  and 
Charles  rose  in  haste,  and  Violet  was  dislodged  from 
her  uncle's  knee.  Eveleen  greeted  her  husband's 
connections  vaguely,  and  looked  about  the  room. 

"  Oh,  there  they  are,"  she  said,  without  appearing 
to  address  her  daughter.  "  The  girl  reminded  me. 
She  said  you  would  never  have  the  sense  to  lock 
them,  which  seems  to  show  her  judgment.  You  had 
better  take  them  up,  that  is,  if  you  ever  mean  to  dress 
at  all.  I  am  inclined  to  think  you  don't  deserve  to 
have  such  things,  if  you  can't  take  better  care  of 
them." 

"  Oh,  Mother,  dear,"  said  Violet.     "  The  tail  of 


4i6  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

Father's  eye  was  on  them  constantly;  and  Mr. 
Shovell,  a  perfect  watch-dog,  is  about." 

"  You  mean  they  are  on  the  table  all  the  time?  " 
cried  Mr.  Gibbs.  "  Give  me  a  private  view  this 
instant,  you  hussy,  or  I  decamp." 

His  brother-in-law  reached  the  case,  and  the 
milky  glory  of  Violet's  pearls  was  disclosed  to  him. 
The  Rector  was  properly  impressed,  with  an  un- 
clerical  whistle.  Charles  gazed  at  Mrs.  Ashwin 
fascinated,  and  made  remarks  mechanically  for  her 
daughter's  ear.  He  had  never  seen  her  at  night 
before,  and  Eveleen  was  far,  far  best  at  night. 

"  Ripping,"  he  said  with  unction  of  the  necklace. 
"  Put  them  on." 

"  I  couldn't  over  this,"  said  Violet,  touching  the 
cumbering  pinafore.  "  Til  show  you  on  Mother, 
though,"  she  added.     "  W^ait." 

Turning  about,  she  flung  the  little  string  adroitly 
round  her  mother's  neck,  before  she  could  resist: 
and  Eveleen  did  not  resist  seriously.  She  took  it, 
one  might  have  said,  as  a  natural  attention,  and 
stood  to  be  looked  at,  twisting  the  pearls  into 
comfort  with  one  white  hand;  for  they  clasped  her 
splendid  throat  more  closely  than  Violet's,  and  a 
pearl  or  two  more  would  have  been  necessary,  as 
the  wearer  had  already  decided  at  leisure,  to  give 
the  whole  it's  just  effect. 


HOME  AFFAIRS  417 

The  effect  was  quite  sufficient  for  its  immediate 
audience,  however. 

"  It's  a  pity  not  to  leave  them  there,"  murmured 
Violet,  after  a  few  seconds'  breathless  pause.  "  Isn't 
it,  Mr.  Shovell?" 

Poor  Charles  blushed  scarlet :  and  simultaneously, 
Dr.  Ashwin  caught  his  daughter,  pinafore  and  all, 
from  behind,  and  drew  her  back  upon  his  knee. 

"  You  are  growing  shrewish,"  he  said  in  his  soft 
staccato.  "  I  cannot  have  you  so  to-day.  Mr. 
Shovell  has  something  which  he  longs  to  give  you, 
if  you  would  be,  for  one  moment,  kind." 

Violet's  eyes,  rather  wild  to-night,  came  to  rest 
on  Charles'  face,  just  a  passing  flash  of  attention. 
Then  she  glanced  upward. 

"  Very  good,"  she  said.  "  But  you  have  got  my 
hand." 

The  doctor  extended  the  right  hand  he  had 
captured;  and  Charles,  still  blushing,  laid  a  little 
book  upon  it. 

"  Oh,"  said  Violet,  having  looked  at  the  author's 
name  upon  the  book.  A  pause.  "  All  your  youthful 
follies  confessed*?  "  she  queried  lightly. 

"  None  of  them,"  said  Charles. 

Looking  down,  flushed  and  conscious,  he  was 
handsome,  and  Dr.  Ashwin  had  a  weakness  for 
handsome    youths.      When    Charles    was    furthest 


4i8  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

from  trying  to  attract,  his  attractions  not  infre- 
quently surprised  the  doctor.  Claude  was  grateful 
when  this  occurred,  for  he  had  made  it  part  of  his 
serious  business,  for  some  time  past,  to  like  Charles; 
and  as  his  business  covered  a  wide  field,  and  all 
sections  of  it  had  weighed  doubly  upon  his  shoulders 
of  late,  it  was  soothing  to  be  spared  even  a  small 
department  of  the  general  labour  of  life. 

Violet  glanced  at  a  few  dates,  prefixed  to  the 
poems,  casually.  She  had  an  excellent  memory  for 
dates,  as  Charles  had  remarked  before  this. 

"  Who  found  you  out?  "  she  demanded.  "  Mr. 
Warden?" 

"I  showed  him  a  few  old  ones:  and  he  said  he 
would  have  the  rest.    I  couldn't  help  it,  really." 

"  Any  left  out?  "  said  Violet. 

"Quite  a  lot,"  retorted  Charles.  He  added 
huffily, — "  You  can  refuse  it  if  you  like." 

"Can  I,  Father, —  after  this  conversation?" 

"  Certainly  not,"  said  Dr.  Ashwin.  "  You  are 
flattered, —  and  will  treasure  it,  and  thank  the 
author." 

"  Thank  you,  Charles,"  said  Violet.  "  It's  rather 
—  funnier  than  the  pearls."  And  such  was  the  tone, 
that  Charles  was  satisfied.  He  had  at  least  surprised 
her.  That  is  the  very  first  stage  of  all  in  love,  of 
course ;  but  then,  he  had  long  since  been  taught  that 
he  had  to  go  back, —  right  back, —  to  the  beginning. 


HOME  AFFAIRS  419 


II 

A  terrible  tragedy, —  as  it  seemed, —  was  the  next 
thing  to  occur.  Francis,  the  footman,  looking  very 
solemn  indeed,  rather  portentous,  came  in  with  a 
note  on  a  salver,  and  stopped  beside  his  master. 
V^ery  much  at  his  ease,  the  doctor  opened  and  read 
the  note,  over  Violet's  recumbent  head. 

"  Good,  I  will  come,"  he  said.    "  Tell  Joliffe." 

"  Oh,  Father,  dearest,"  the  girl  cried,  starting  and 
clinging  to  him.     "  Not  to-night." 

"  Necessity  knows  no  law,"  he  said.  "  I'm  sorry, 
Pussy." 

He  put  her  aside  with  decision,  and  got  up.  He 
dropped  a  remark  as  he  passed  his  wife, —  the  name 
of  a  house, —  which,  low  as  it  was  spoken,  sent  a 
thrill  through  all  the  room, —  even,  sad  to  admit, 
the  Socialist  Rector. 

"  Really,  Claude,  you  are  going  it,"  he  murmured, 
protesting.     "  Don't  let  us  detain  you." 

"  You  couldn't,"  said  his  brother-in-law,  with  a 
glance.     "  It's  serious." 

"  It's  the  second  time,"  Eveleen  was  roused  to 
observe,  when  he  had  gone. 

She  did  not  appear  the  least  complacent,  merely 
offered  it  for  their  information:  that,  as  Violet  had 
said  to  Alice,  was  her  secret.  For  no  one  who  knew 
Mrs.  Ashwin  at  all,  that  is,  who  took  the  trouble 


420  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

to  follow  her  actions,  could  doubt  that  the  kind  of 
thing  gratified  her  really.  Eveleen's  beautiful  ex- 
terior was  a  perfect  non-conductor  of  all  warmth 
of  emotion,  whether  creditable  or  otherwise.  Anger 
she  showed  best,  and  that  was  what  her  daughter 
called  "  white  "  anger,  a  kind  of  still  transfusing 
glow.  On  this  occasion  she  betrayed  neither  ap- 
proval nor  apprehension,  though  there  was  room 
for  both.  She  seemed  quite  oblivious,  for  instance, 
of  any  little  inconvenience  that  might  ensue  from 
Claude's  desertion  of  his  accustomed  post,  in  the 
social  campaign  she  was  contemplating.  The 
chances  were,  of  course,  that  he  had  seen  about  every- 
thing beforehand,  or  was  engaged  in  seeing  now 
before  he  left.  The  chances  were  such,  considering 
his  daughter  was  closely  concerned  in  the  present 
instance,  that  Eveleen  took  them  tranquilly;  and, 
having  looked  the  remaining  occupants  of  her  recep- 
tion-room over  at  ease,  moored  herself  temporarily, 
for  want  of  better,  by  Charles. 

Altogether,  few  women  of  Mr.  Shovell's  acquaint- 
ance could  have  appeared  less  put  out  by  the  en- 
forced detention  of  a  distinguished  husband  on  an 
occasion  of  note  than  Mrs.  Ashwin.  It  was  no  doubt 
unselfishness,  Charles  thought,  and  she  was  consid- 
ering the  doctor's  advantage  rather  than  her  own. 
She  was  perfectly  saintly  about  it,  in  Charles'  view, 
and,  like  the  adroit  hostess  she  naturally  was,  let  the 


HOME  AFFAIRS  423 

Marquis  de  Fervolles,  an  accomplished  man  of  a 
certain  age  who  knew  the  habits  of  the  house,  take 
her  husband's  place  in  upholding  her,  both  before 
and  after  the  arrival  of  the  guests. 

The  Rector  was  amazed:  and  it  took  much  to 
amaze  him,  for  he  was,  for  all  his  simplicity,  a  man 
of  considerable  experience.  Mr.  Gibbs  had  thought 
Claude  looking  ill,  and  anxious,  and  strained,  and 
all  that  a  man  who  was  making  wealth  and  a  high 
position  hand  over  hand  for  his  wife,  should  not 
have  been  allowed  by  that  wife  to  look.  She  must, 
he  thought,  be  doing  it  out  of  natural  deviltry,  for 
there  was  no  possibility, —  family  bias  apart, —  of 
comparing  the  two  men.  The  Frenchman  was 
barely  good-looking,  barely  well-made,  and  quite 
superficially  clever.  His  wit  was  a  thin  varnish,  his 
breeding,  to  those  with  any  instinct  for  real  civility, 
did  not  exist.  Upon  titles  and  such  unpractical  ap- 
pendages Mr.  Gibbs,  knowing  Eveleen,  did  not 
dwell.  Nor  had  M.  de  Fervolles,  by  any  means,  the 
manner  of  the  conqueror  that  is  said  to  mean  so 
much  to  woman.  He  was  restless  and  jealous,  he 
gnawed  his  fingers,  as  the  plays  would  say:  as 
though  even  now,  at  this  obviously  late  stage  of 
affairs,  he  was  not  entirely  sure  of  her  nor  of  his  own 
position.  The  whole  thing  looked  ugly  to  Mr.  Gibbs 
observing  it,  and  worse  for  its  setting;  tor,  quite 


420.  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

apart  from  all  question  in  the  case  of  attraction  or 
advantage,  the  fact  remained  prominent  that  such 
an  exhibition,  on  an  occasion  deliberately  designed 
for  the  diversion  of  youth,  was  odiously  out  of  place. 
The  Rector,  with  his  instinct  towards  the  young  and 
their  rights,  in  revelry  above  all,  and  with  his  sterner 
standard  of  a  generation  back  in  the  matter  of 
example,  felt  offended  in  his  own  person,  for  the 
entire  company. 

The  only  thing  that  amazed  him  more  than 
Eveleen's  behaviour,  was  her  daughter's  accustomed 
and  far  from  cynical  toleration  of  it.  He  had 
not  realised  that  at  Glasswell.  He  thought  that, 
with  a  not  uncommon  weakness  of  her  age,  the  girl 
was  posing  a  little,  exaggerating  romantically  an 
ordinary,  if  unfortunate  situation.  He  could  not 
see  now  that  it  was  the  least  ordinary,  or  that  Violet's 
rendering  of  it,  even  as  hinted  so  long  since  in  the 
rose-garden  to  his  sceptical  stepson,  was  exagger- 
ated in  the  least.  He  was  so  genuinely  perplexed 
in  his  search  for  any  possible  motive  Eveleen  could 
have  in  such  an  apparently  suicidal  course  of  action 
that,  had  it  not  been  for  Violet's  easy  attitude 
towards  it,  and  that  of  certain  other  young  people 
in  the  gathering  as  well,  he  would  have  been  driven 
to  believe  she  was  doing  it  to  exasperate  him 
personally,  to  tease  a  long-recognised  opponent. 
For  that  she  stored  grudges  and  repaid  them   at 


HOME  AFFAIRS  423 

leisure,  he  and  Margaret  had  long  since  had  reason 
to  know.  He  only  wished  —  he  wished  with  all  his 
heart  for  Claude  —  that  it  might  prove  so :  but  he 
doubted  it,  sadly. 

It  was  a  vastly  pretty  spectacle  he  had  beneath 
his  eyes,  as  he  stood  watching  the  black  throng  meet 
the  white  in  the  embowered  hall,  melt  into  it  rapidly,, 
' —  for  all  were  friends  together  on  the  occasion, 
—  and  spread  airily  in  couples  about  the  rooms.  The 
numbers,  owing  to  failures  of  importance  whom  Mrs. 
Ashwin's  exquisite  standard  would  not  replace,  were 
not  excessive;  but  her  choice  had  been  apt  in  one 
way,  for  all  were  equally  matched;  and  the  extra 
space  in  the  ballroom,  which  the  party's  reduction 
permitted,  added  to  the  general  grace  and  freedom 
of  movement,  naturally.  The  Rector,  having  Mr. 
Warden  and  a  number  of  Violet's  other  mature 
admirers  to  support  him,  chaffed,  flirted,  flattered, 
and  forgot  his  dignity  to  his  heart's  content,  since 
he  was  encouraged  on  all  sides  to  do  so.  But  his 
persistent  enigma  would  not  leave  him,  and  he  was 
adding  unconsciously  to  the  evidence  upon  it,  all 
the  time. 

His  observations  of  the  dancers  soon  picked  out 
the  two  young  Derings,  habitues  of  a  fast  house 
themselves,  as  he  gathered  by  their  behaviour,  and 
gay,  unguarded  remarks.  He  listened  to  nothing 
deliberately,  but  Lady  Joan  especially,  the  blurting 


424  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

type  of  girl  just  out  of  the  schoolroom,  uttered  words 
in  his  hearing  to  her  partners,  that  left  no  doubt  in 
his  mind  how  the  pair  he  was  concerned  with  were 
spoken  of  abroad. 

"  He  reminds  me  of  a  monkey  on  a  stick,"  said 
Lady  Joan.  "  And  she's  had  him  a  bit  too  long, 
you  know,  and  just  makes  him  jump  now  and  then." 

"  Or  a  butterfly  on  a  pin,"  said  her  equally  lively 
partner.  "  That  wriggles  rather  better,  you  know. 
Poor  chap."  And  they  were  whirled  off  into  the 
melee. 

So  it  was  the  Marquis  the  gilded  youth  of  London 
pitied  —  not  Claude.  It  was  a  small  consolation, 
though  the  Rector  wondered  how  long  it  was  since 
Claude  had  had  his  era  of  pity. 

At  a  certain  stage  of  the  evening's  affairs,  he 
turned  away  from  the  door  where  he  had  been 
watching,  almost  in  disgust,  and  aware  of  sudden 
weariness.  He  retreated  finally,  having  sought  in 
vain  another  retiring-place,  to  his  brother-in-law's 
small  study,  out  of  the  passage  at  the  back  of  the 
hall.  The  secretary  Ford  was  there,  all  in  his 
war  paint,  for  he  had  escaped  an  instant  from  a 
partner  on  the  upper  floor,  to  answer  a  dispatch  just 
arrived  by  the  evening  post.  Mr.  Gibbs  enquired 
if  he  was  interrupting,  and  then  if  the  study  figured 
as  a  sitting-out  room,  and  Mr.  Ford  laughed  a  nega- 
tive to  both  questions. 


HOME  AFFAIRS  425 

"  I  kept  a  fire  here,"  he  observed,  "  in  case  the 
doctor  preferred  to  lie  low  when  he  came  in.  He 
will  be  late,  probably," 

"  And  is  not  wanted,"  suggested  the  Rector. 

"  Except  by  Miss  Ashwin,"  said  the  young  man, 
still  writing  busily,  and  not  raising  his  eyes.  It  was 
evident  he  was  in  all  the  secrets,  as  indeed  was 
probable  enough,  since  he  was  a  regular  inmate. 

"Do  you  consider  Ashv/in  is  well'?"  said  Mr. 
Gibbs,  advancing  to  the  fire.  Eveleen  faced  him 
even  here,  a  magnificent  photograph  in  the  centre 
of  the  chimney-shelf,  doing  full  justice  to  the 
imposing  first  flood  of  her  beauty.  The  man  she 
most  goaded  was  still  bound,  by  that  miraculous 
spell  of  hers,  to  keep  her  near,  fronting  him,  even  in 
his  working  hours.  Of  all  things  he  had  observed 
that  night,  that  portrait  was  not  the  least  amazing 
to  Mr.  Gibbs. 

"  No,  sir,"  Mr.  Ford  replied  to  his  last  question. 
"  I  only  assume  he  is  well,  in  my  answers  to  fifty 
people,  every  day.  No  other  way  for  it,  unless  I 
want  to  be  chucked.  Which  I  don't,"  he  added 
calmly.  He  rang,  gave  his  notes  to  Francis,  excused 
himself  to  Mr.  Gibbs  by  the  remark  that  Miss  Ash- 
win was  waiting  for  him,  and  flew,  two  steps  at  a 
time,  up  the  uncarpeted  back  stairs. 

Mr.  Gibbs,  lighting  a  pipe  in  his  seclusion,  re- 
flected that  he  was  probably  a  good  secretary,  since 


426  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

Claude  had  him,  certainly  a  nicely-bred  youth  and 
devoted  to  his  chief :  yet  he  was  none  the  less  the  same 
"  amenable  "  Ford  who  went  outside  his  duties  on 
the  sly  to  write  Mrs.  Ashwin's  letters,  because  he 
recollected  Violet  had  used  the  name.  In  virtue  of 
which  considerations,  Eveleen  was  in  spite  of  all  a 
marvellous  woman :  and  Henrietta  at  home  was  still 
imjust. 

It  was  after  midnight  when  Claude  returned,  and 
he  made  straight  for  his  study.  He  came  in  as  a 
man  does  who  seeks  solitude,  but  when  he  saw  the 
Rector  smoking  by  the  iire,  his  expression  changed  by 
a  mere  fraction  —  nothing  to  matter.  The  recording 
angel  should  have  noted  that  in  Mr.  Gibbs'  favour. 

"Bored  already,  Arthur"?"  he  said  brusquely. 
"  Hasn't  Violet  been  behaving^  " 

"  Perfectly,"  said  Mr.  Gibbs.  "  Violet  is  leading 
my  stepson  a  dog's  life,  for  which  I  shall  be  bound 
to  thank  her  hereafter.  I  think  he  rather  thought  he 
was  going  to  fill  up  her  programme.  He  practically 
hinted  as  much  to  me  after  dinner.  He  is  such  an 
irreducibly  sanguine  scamp." 

"  What's  he  got?  "  said  Claude,  without  a  smile. 

"  One  waltz  and  an  extra :  a  very  doubtful  extra, 
Claude,  indeed.  Rather  hard  lines,  don't  you 
think?" 

"  She  knows  best.  I  wouldn't  swear  it  was  hard 
lines." 


HOME  AFFAIRS  427 

"She  suffered  then?"  The  father  nodded. 
"  More  than  necessary,  probably?  "     He  shrugged. 

"  I  never  thought  myself  her  fix  was  serious," 
pursued  the  Rector.     "  What  about  yours?  " 

There  was  a  prolonged  silence,  and  with  his  habit 
of  admiration  of  the  younger  man,  he  was  almost 
sorry  he  had  attempted  it.  He  was  the  other  party, 
and  the  Ashwins  a  bitterly  proud  stock.  Also  he 
was  a  priest;  and  priests,  as  none  knew  better  or 
said  more  often  than  Mr.  Gibbs,  are  pestilently 
presumptuous  often,  by  a  mere  habit  of  the  trade, 
quite  without  their  proper  sphere  of  influence. 
Claude  was  without  his,  naturally,  but  the  Rector 
loved  him:  and  that,  he  believed,  excused  the 
venture. 

Nothing  happened  for  a  considerable  time,  and 
then  the  younger  man  turned  half  away,  a  move- 
ment like  a  wince  which  concealed  his  face  from  his 
companion. 

"  She's  playing  with  me,"  he  groaned,  his  arm 
contracting  and  his  hand  clenching  on  the  shelf 
against  which  he  leant.  "  I  shall  have  to  give  in, 
Arthur.    I  shan't  be  able  to  get  through." 

"Have  you  evidence?"  said  the  Rector. 

"  I  could  get  it  —  so  they  say." 

"But  won't,  eh?"  He  rose  and  grasped  the 
nearer  arm.  "  Keep  it  up,  Claude,"  he  said  quietly, 
"  till  V^iolet  is  married.  It  won't  be  so  long  to  wait. 
It  cannot  be  wrong,  surely,  to  think  of  that." 


428  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

"  And  after  her  —  the  deluge.  Very  well."  After 
another  pause,  he  dropped  his  arm  from  the  shelf 
and  turned  again.  "  I  must  go  up,"  he  remarked, 
looking  hard  at  the  Rector,  which  was  his  habit  when 
he  was  shy. 

"  Rubbish,  you  need  not.  You  always  think  you 
are  indispensable.  I  tell  you,  the  girl's  a  perfect 
hostess;  I  only  wish  my  little  coward  at  home  could 
see.  I  never  saw  such  natural  ease, —  allowing  for 
its  being  unnatural,  I  mean.  Now,  see  here,  young 
man, —  have  you  dined?  " 

"  I  have,  Arthur, —  particularly  well.  Do  you 
imagine  I  neglect  my  food?  Evie  would  be  having 
a  pleasant  time  as  a  widow  if  I  did.  Are  you 
coming  or  not?  Very  good, —  lazy  brute.  The  best 
cigars  are  in  that  locker.  There's  the  key,  and  don't 
let  Ford  get  hold  of  it.  He  thinks  this  is  his  room, 
you  know,  and  it's  mine.  .  .  .  And  keep  up 
the  fire,  will  you?    I  shall  want  it  later  on." 

"  I  shall  let  it  out,"  observed  the  Rector,  sinking 
back  upon  his  comfortable  chair.  "  It's  an  hour  past 
my  bedtime,  anyhow.  I  never  knew  anything  like 
the  hours  you  place-hunting  parvenus  keep." 

Claude,  on  the  verge  of  going,  stopped  at  the 
door. 

"  I  say,"  he  said,  with  a  peculiar  expression. 
"  What  do  you  bet  I  don't  knock  that  fellow  out 
before  the  evening's  over?" 


HOME  AFFAIRS  429 

"  Nothing,"  said  the  Rector  piously.  "  Betting  is 
against  my  principles,  I  am  thankful  to  say." 

His  brother-in-law  laughed,  and  disappeared;  and 
Mr.  Gibbs  contented  himself  with  saying,  "  Fool!  " 
to  Eveleen's  picture.  For  which  flat  defiance  of  a 
scriptural  precept  we  may  trust  he  was  not  damned. 


IV 

INAUGURATES    REVOLT 

But  the  evening  was  far  from  over  yet,  even  for 
the  exhausted  Rector.  That  subtle  spark  in  Claude's 
eye  portended  small  peace  for  others,  as  he  might 
have  recollected  if  he  had  not  been  so  sleepy;  for  he 
had  suffered  by  it,  himself,  in  days  of  old. 

The  master  of  the  house  passed  up  the  ball-room, 
slowly  of  necessity,  for  the  dance  was  ending,  and  he 
moved  against  a  growing  current  issuing  to  the  hall. 
He  was  greeted  on  all  sides  as  he  went,  and  replied 
neatly  and  indifferently,  in  his  fashion.  He  could 
guess  very  well  what  the  bright,  amused  gaze  of 
several  of  these  young  creatures  upon  him  implied; 
for  Claude  was  far  nearer  to  the  present  generation 
in  spirit  than  the  Rector,  and  he  gave  the  sharpness 
of  youth  its  due.  He  was  not  compassionated,  at 
least;  it  was  merely  that  the  sight  of  him,  at  that 
juncture,  amused  the  company.  Dr.  Ash  win  was 
perfectly  willing  to  amuse  his  guests  by  such  simple 
means,  or  indeed  by  any  other  means  in  his  power. 
He  proceeded  at  leisure  to  do  so. 

Violet  called  to  him  as  he  passed,  through  the 
melting  wreaths  of  the  dance.  "  Father,  is  that 
you?     I  have  kept  the  next, —  fourteen." 


HOME  AFFAIRS  431 

"  I  am  not  dancing,"  he  replied,  and  pushed 
steadily  on  his  way. 

"  Oh,  you  horror,"  cried  Violet  after  him. 
"  Mother  is  saying  that  too." 

It  was  faint,  sweet  consolation,  like  so  many  of 
the  utterances  of  that  voice.  She  had  been  refusing 
the  importunate,  then,  as  she  had  done  at  Bering, 
and  he  had  still  his  opportunity.  He  could  not 
discover  her,  at  first,  but  soon  tracked  her  to  an 
alcove,  where  she  was  talking,  idly  in  her  manner, 
to  another  woman.  This  strange  fact  led  his  eyes 
to  de  Fer voiles,  who  stood  at  no  great  distance, 
flagrantly  neglecting  the  girl  at  his  elbow,  Lady 
Joan. 

Claude  bowed  to  Lady  Joan,  and  looked  past  her 
companion.  Then  he  waited  tranquilly  also,  for  his 
wife  to  turn  round.  She  was  clearly  bent  on  annoy- 
ing somebody,  for  she  failed  to  do  so.  When  the 
new  dance  opened,  and  her  neighbour,  claimed  by  a 
partner,  rose  to  join  it,  Eveleen  remained,  her  head 
at  the  same  angle,  pouting  just  visibly,  as  all  the 
world  but  herself  swung  into  action  again.  She 
looked  discontented,  if  not  lonely,  at  the  moment,  as 
a  successful  hostess  should  not  look.  Claude  walked 
into  her  line  of  vision  carelessly. 

"  Come  on,  Evie,"  he  said,  as  a  schoolboy  might, 
holding  his  arm  in  a  certain  manner.  He  hardly 
looked  at  her  in  speaking:  nor  was  his  tone  appeal- 


432  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

ing,  rather  like  a  sharp  command.  If  she  resented  it, 
or  even  remarked  it  was  deliberate,  he  was  "  done," 
of  course ;  for  the  Marquis,  and  the  mischievous  Joan 
just  parting  from  him,  were  both  within  ear-shot  of 
the  challenge. 

She  did  neither.  Eveleen  heeded  tones  and  such 
details  very  little,  if  a  chance  offered  to  her  taste, 
and  he  had  struck  the  psychological  moment.  She 
had  really  not  perceived  him,  and  his  voice  startled 
her  a  trifle.  He  copied  deliberately  an  old  manner, 
which  she  had  by  heart,  so  that  her  actions  followed 
it  mechanically.  She  was  bored,  as  he  guessed,  and 
the  other  man,  useful  at  times,  had  not  learnt  when 
he  must  let  her  be  before  the  world;  for  there  were 
important  women  present,  whose  favour  she  hap- 
pened to  need.  He  should  have  known  this,  of  course, 
without  her  telling  him:  as  Claude  always  did. 

M.  de  Fer voiles,  as  a  fact,  never  quite  fathomed 
Eveleen's  character.  He  made  the  mistake  of  taking 
her  for  a  slightly  different  type  of  woman  much 
more  familiar  to  him,  which  she  was  not. 

She  rose,  her  delicate  scarves  and  their  delicate 
scents  dropping  off  her.  She  hesitated  a  moment,  but 
only  to  arrange  the  long  folds  of  her  skirt;  and  while 
she  stood  so  at  his  side,  her  eyes  like  his  were  on 
the  twisting  throng.  They  were  a  striking  and  well- 
contrasted  couple,  as,  in  that  short  interval,  the 
world  had  leisure  to  observe.    Then  they  slid  into  an 


HOME  AFFAIRS  433 

opening,  with  the  imperceptible  address  of  natural 
accord  and  ancient  practice  combined,  and  Eveleen 
shut  her  eyes.  It  was  long  since  she  had  danced, 
and  longer  still  since  she  had  paired  with  Claude, 
whom  she  had  married,  among  a  few  other  things, 
for  his  dancing,  when  she  was  twenty  years  old. 
She  was  barely  forty  now,  and  quite  as  lithe  and 
lovely  as  ever  she  had  been.  She  had  refused  scores 
of  partners  during  the  season  past,  out  of  laziness 
largely:  and  let  herself  forget  too  easily  how  en- 
chanting the  motion  was. 

"  Wait,"  she  said  at  last;  and  he  landed  her  in  a 
sheltered  corner,  beneath  an  open  window.  It  was 
only  a  minute's  halt  for  breath-taking,  as  was 
evident,  for  both  pairs  of  eyes  were  still  on  the 
throng,  and  both,  through  the  veil  of  that  common 
abstraction,  looked  markedly  elated.  The  dance 
changes,  as  an  art,  more  rapidly  than  any  with  the 
passage  of  years,  but  its  inner  spirit  remains  the 
same;  and  the  true  worshipper  of  the  goddess,  of 
whatever  shade,  sex  or  generation,  may  be  marked 
by  this  particular  expression. 

He  made  the  movement  to  recommence,  and 
stopped  half-way. 

"Your  brooch  is  loose,"  he  informed  her,  his 
eyes  on  the  jewel  at  her  breast.  Eveleen  felt  at  it, 
still  looking  aside,  and  then  frowned,  took  it  off, 
and  stood  holding  it  uncertainly. 


434  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

"  Broken^  Let's  see,"  said  Claude;  and  by  sheer 
force  of  habit,  she  put  the  httle  trinket  in  his  hand, 
He  examined  it  quickly.  It  was  a  beautiful  and 
peculiar  stone,  in  a  ring  of  small  diamonds,  and 
nothing  that  he  recognised  the  least. 

"  The  catch  has  gone,  I'm  afraid,"  he  told  her. 
It's  useless."  And  therewith,  with  a  jerk  of  wrist, 
he  tossed  it  straight  through  the  open  window  into 
the  night. 

"Claude I"  she  ejaculated. 

Most  women  would  have  been  furious,  but  Eve- 
leen  was  amused.  Quite  a  few  times  before  during 
their  partnership  he  had  shown  himself  in  this  mood, 
and  it  had  invariably  amused  her.  "  Elvish,"  Mr. 
Gibbs'  word,  was  the  nearest  that  could  express  it. 
He  had  been  dull  for  a  long  time,  but  he  had  evi- 
dently waked  up.  She  hardly  knew  what  to  expect, 
and  that  is  stimulating. 

"  You  shall  have  another  to-morrow,"  he  said. 
"  Come  on,  we're  wasting  time." 

She  let  him  take  her  down  the  room  again,  and 
they  stopped,  as  chance  would  have  it,  fronting  de 
Fervolles  and  Violet,  who  were  framed  in  a  doorway, 
and  looking  bored. 

"  Father,  you  absolute  abomination !  "  the  girl 
exclaimed.  "  This  is  the  fourteenth,  the  one  I  kept 
for  you.    And  you  said  you  were  not  dancing." 

"  Well,  give  me  a  bit  of  it,"  he  responded  easily. 


HOME  AFFAIRS  435 

"  De  Fervolles  won't  mind,  and  mother  will  excuse 
us." 

He  said  it  audibly,  in  the  hearing  of  a  dozen 
people,  and  the  Marquis  could  think  of  nothing 
whatever  to  hinder  it.  The  arrangement  sounded 
so  friendly  and  domestic,  among  this  particular 
group  of  persons  above  all,  that  it  was  quite  inspiring 
to  the  ear.  So  M.  de  Fervolles  had  his  second  partner 
reft  from  him,  in  the  course  of  a  single  waltz. 

"  He  made  love  to  me,"  said  Violet  softly,  when 
her  father  had  steered  her  safely  out  of  hearing. 
"  Pique,  I  suppose,  or  nothing  else  to  do.  I  sum- 
moned the  best  French  I  could  to  say  I  detested 
him." 

Claude  looked  at  her,  right  in  the  eyes,  but  he 
did  not  answer  at  all  till  he  had  guided  her  through 
the  next  congested  place.  Then  he  remarked 
absently : 

"  Does  one  reverse  in  these  days.  Pussy  ^  I 
forget." 

•'  What  can  it  matter  what  one  does,"  scoffed 
Violet.     "  Do  as  you  prefer." 

"A  fellow  doesn't  like  to  be  thought  old-fash- 
ioned," he  explained.    "  In  that  or  other  things." 

Violet  glanced  swiftly  up  at  his  face.  "  Not 
pistols,  please,"  she  said,  with  a  little  shaken  laugh. 
"  I  don't  like  them.  I  mean, —  it's  not  the  ball  I 
mind,  it's  the  bang." 


436  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

"  Where's  that  quotation  from'?  "  he  demanded, 
after  another  short  interval,  in  which  he  seemed  to 
be  considering  it. 

"  A  noted  dramatist  of  your  era,"  said  Violet. 
"  You  ought  to  know.  I'd  have  found  a  more 
recherche  one,  only  you  frightened  me.  Take  me 
back  to  Mother  now." 

"  It's  all  right,"  he  reassured  her.    "  Here  we  are." 

He  brought  her  into  haven  at  Eveleen's  side.  De 
Fervolles,  who  had  been  watching  their  progress 
with  an  unwise  gloom,  rose  to  make  room  for  her. 
He  had  been  struck  afresh  by  the  elegance  of  the 
girl,  and  the  pearls  she  was  wearing  had  proved,  at 
the  close  view  to  which  he  had  treated  himself 
lately,  to  be  magnificent.  A  big  "  dot "  for  this  only 
child  was  certain;  and  he  was  facing  his  family  in 
France  on  the  morrow,  for  they  had  summoned 
him. 

"  The  Digbys  are  going,  Mother,"  said  Violet, 
rather  breathless  on  arrival.  "  I  heard  them  saying 
so  as  we  passed.  I  am  afraid  we  ought  to  begin 
hovering  near  the  door." 

So  de  Fervolles  was  deprived  even  of  Mrs.  Ash- 
win's  familiar  enchantment,  and  had  nothing  left 
him  but  the  disconcerting  husband.  Luckily,  his 
host  had  button-holed  another  "  type,"  the  pub- 
lisher Warden;  and  they  approached  de  Fervolles, 
chaffing  one  another,  side  by  side. 

A  few  minutes  later,  Dr.  Ashwin  left  the  dancing- 


HOME  AFFAIRS  437 

room  rather  hastily,  and  almost  ran  into  his  wife, 
who  was  posted  just  round  the  curtain,  having  taken 
leave  of  some  of  the  more  punctual  guests. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,"  he  said  mechanically. 

"  Well,"  said  Eveleen,  curling  her  expressive  lip. 
"Has  he  accepted?  " 

Men  are  such  fools, —  but  yet  amusing, —  that 
characteristic  expression  of  hers  always  said;  for 
Eveleen  was  quite  intelligent  in  certain  situations, 
though  in  appearance,  she  soared  above  them. 

"  He  accepts,  yes,"  said  Claude,  making  her  start. 
"  Warden  put  it  so  that  he  could  not  escape."  He 
glanced  from  his  watch  to  the  clock  in  the  halL 
"  That  is  three  minutes  fast,"  he  said.  "  We  are  due 
down  there  in  the  basement  at  one.  I  give  him 
two-fifty  out  of  five." 

Eveleen  stared  at  him,  for  she  was  no  sports- 
woman, and  all  varieties  of  balls, —  but  one,  of 
course, —  bored  her  deeply.  But  her  daughter  over- 
heard, and  flushing  to  the  forehead,  clasped  her 
hands. 

"  Oh,  oh,"  she  cried,  in  her  most  audible  clear 
tone,  swerving  to  the  young  couples  scattered  in  the 
hall.  "  Father  has  a  match  with  M.  de  Fervolles  on 
our  table  at  one  o'clock,  and  he  is  giving  him  half, — 
two  hundred  and  fifty  in  five  hundred  up.  Scratch 
that  extra,  Charles, —  do  you  mind?  I  must  abso- 
lutely mark  for  them.    Joan,  dearest,  did  you  hear 


438  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

that'?  Father  is  quite  worth  watching,  I  warn  you, 
when  his  blood  is  up." 

Lady  Joan  whistled.  "  He's  a  capital  player,  you 
know,  that  Frenchman,"  she  said  to  the  man  next 
her,  Mr.  Ford.  "  I  saw  him  take  my  brother  on 
once,  down  at  Bering.  Bill  I  "  She  called  up, 
regardless  of  all  forms,  to  the  further  sitting-out 
contingent  on  the  stairs.  "  I  say,  Bill !  Didn't  the 
Marquis  give  you  thirty  out  of  a  hundred  at  billiards 
once,  and  walk  over  you*?  Well,  what's-his-name. 
Dr.  Ashwin,  is  offering  him  two-fifty  out  of  five 
hundred,  to  be  played  off  to-night;  and  I  shall  jolly 
well  cut  Tommy  for  that  extra,  and  go  and  see  the 
start." 

"Great  Scott  I"  protested  an  outraged  voice 
above, —  for  Bill  thought  himself  a  very  fair  player, 
privately.  "  I  say,  you  know, —  the  chap  must  be 
off  his  chump." 

"  Quite,  Mr.  Dering,"  said  Violet  desolately;  and 
her  mother,  whose  back  was  turned  to  the  young 
party,  smiled. 

"  I  shall  back  the  French  one,"  said  William,  more 
discreetly,  to  the  neighbouring  man. 

"  I'll  take  you,  Dering,"  called  Ford,  the  secretary, 
from  the  hall  beneath  him. 

"  Shovell,"  said  Bill,  after  short  parley  over  the 
banisters,  "will  you  hold  the  stakes?  I  say,  Mrs. 
Ashwin,"  he  added,  "  I  hope  you  don't  mind  this. 
Does  she,  Miss  Ashwin,  do  you  think?  " 


HOME  AFFAIRS  439 

*'  It  amuses  her,"  said  Violet. 

Violet  was  calculating,  her  eyes  on  the  clock;  for 
the  last  dance  on  the  regular  programme  was  still 
due,  and  she  was  engaged  not  only  for  it,  but  deep 
into  possible  and  improbable  extras.  She  looked  at 
the  name  on  her  dance-card,  and  then  at  Mr.  Ford 
across  the  ball.  Her  expression,  which  Charles 
observed,  was  of  dim  entreaty,  though  a  spark  of 
mischief  was  also  visible. 

"  Do  you  mind  terribly"?  "  said  Violet's  glance. 

"  At  your  service,  and  his,"  said  Mr.  Ford's.  And, 
while  he  still  talked  to  Lady  Joan,  he  produced  a 
silver  pencil,  and  drew  a  careful  line  through  the 
sixteenth  dance  on  his  card. 

"  How  wonderfully  perceptive  professional  people 
always  are,"  mused  Miss  Ashwin  aloud.  "  Aren't 
they,  Charles?"  She  caught  his  reproachful  eyes 
fixed  on  her,  and  moving  sylph-like  to  his  side,  ran 
a  hand  through  his  arm.  Charles  could  not  or  would 
not  understand  her  position  with  young  Ford,  the 
camaraderie  based  on  a  common  artistic  taste, 
almost  daily  meetings  at  meal-times,  and  the 
personal  devotion  they  shared  for  the  head  of  the 
household.  This  easy  alliance, —  which  disgusted 
Eveleen,  though  her  husband  never  mistook  it  for 
a  moment, —  was  outside  Mr.  Shovell's  experience, 
and  lacerating  (far  too  obviously)  to  his  feelings, 
and  Violet  in  her  ready  sympathy  just  realised  that 


440  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

it  might  be  so, —  hence  the  hand  upon  his  arm.  She 
dropped  it  the  next  moment,  as  she  felt  the  respon- 
sive thrill. 

"  I  am  thinking  of  that  Man,"  she  confided.  "  Do 
you  happen  to  know  where  he  is?  " 

"  Not  without  further  information,"  said  Charles 
brilliantly.  "  I  notice  none  of  us  here  seem  quite  to 
do,  but  there  are  plenty  left." 

"  Mr.  Gibbs  was  smoking  in  the  little  study  when 
I  last  saw  him.  Miss  Ashwin,"  said  the  intolerable 
Ford.  *' About  an  hour  ago.  What's  become  of 
him  since " 

"  You  are  unable  to  guess,"  supplied  Violet. 
"  Well,  I  am  going,  very  quietly,  to  the  little, study 
to  see.  Don't  wait  for  me,  Charles  or  anybody,  will 
)^ou'?  At  this  advanced  stage,  you  see,  it  may  take 
some  time.  But  I  will  do  my  best,  and,  if  not  too 
fearfully  grumpy,  bring  him  down." 

Her  resources  proved  equal  to  the  occasion,  as 
usual.  An  aged  and  drowsy  clergyman,  with  the 
best  will  in  the  world  to  be  grumpy,  got  no  chance. 
When  Mr.  Gibbs  joined  the  party  in  the  basement 
room,  howsoever  he  may  have  been  discovered  by 
Violet,  he  was  broad  awake.  Betting  was  hushed,  if 
not  abandoned,  at  his  appearance.  He  was  generally 
known  to  be  "  safe,"  and  a  jolly  fellow. 

"  May  I  mark,  Father*?  "  entreated  Violet.  "  I 
promise  to  be  careful." 


HOME  AFFAIRS  441 

"  No,"  he  said  sharply,  for  he  was  nervous.  "  Not 
in  a  match, —  you're  interested.  Warden  will  mark." 

"  And  if  I  assured  you,"  said  de  Fervolles,  who 
was  engaged  in  clearing  the  table,  over  his  shoulder, 
"  that  Mademoiselle  has  not  been  interested  in  this 
contest,  from  first  to  last?  " 

"  I  should  be  obliged  to  tell  you  that  you  lie,"  said 
Claude.  He  placed  the  red  ball  carefully  upon  its 
spot. 

"  Are  they  going  to  talk  French"?  "  young  Bering 
grumbled.     "  What  that  about,  Joan?  " 

"  Only  twopenny  civilities,"  said  Lady  Joan, 
whose  last  French  governess  had  departed  some  time 
before. 

Violet  sank  down  beside  her  mother,  with  quiver- 
ing lips.  Then  he  was  fighting  for  her  I  She  felt 
she  would  die,  really,  if  he  were  beaten  now.  And 
3'et,  being  a  woman,  she  might  do  nothing  for  him. 
She  had  to  sit  there  by  Eveleen,  and  watch  this 
monstrous  combat,  with  clasped  hands.  She  pas- 
sionately envied  her  mother  at  that  moment,  cool, 
graceful,  and  unconcerned, —  at  least  apparently. 

"  If  you  are  cold,  child,  fetch  a  cloak,"  said  Eve- 
leen; for  even  she  could  not  fail  to  observe  how 
the  clasped  hands  near  her  quivered,  and  the  girl's 
whole  body  too. 

Violet  shook  her  head:  and,  with  the  usual 
formalities,  the  handicap  began. 


CLAUDE  FAILS  BRILLIANTLY 

It  Started  very  tamely,  as  such  matches  often  do. 
Claude  was  over-careful,  and  the  whispering  of  his 
little  audience  irritated  him.  The  Marquis'  languid 
air  of  protest,  too,  extremely  well  chosen,  drove  him 
beyond  himself  with  fury.  His  play  was  nervous, 
in  consequence,  and  the  scoring  comparatively  slow. 
M.  de  Fervolles  passed  his  third  hundred  long  before 
he  touched  his  first,  and  seemed  to  the  amateur 
observation  quite  a  pretty  player.  Violet  was  cal- 
culating steadily,  far  more  steadily  than  the  betting 
fraternity;  the  result  of  which  method  was,  she 
ceased  despairing,  before  the  honourable  Bill  began. 

For,  when  the  audience  least  expected  it,  some- 
thing changed.  Blind  justice  smiled,  or  let  her 
scales  shift  slightly.  Claude  seized  his  self-control, 
and  settled  into  his  accustomed  manner.  After  an 
interval,  as  he  seemed  unwilling  to  stop  playing, 
Violet  pushed  a  chair  towards  the  Marquis. 

"  Do  sit  down,"  she  said  sympathetically.  "  He 
is  so  tiresomely  deliberate.  It  must  be  advancing 
age." 


HOME  AFFAIRS  443 

M.  de  Fervolles  omitted  to  thank  her  as  he  obeyed. 
He  was  biting  his  short  moustache  with  visible 
apprehension.  Claude  walked  about  the  table, 
stopping  to  consider  at  intervals.  He  was  debarred 
from  recklessness,  which  he  loved:  and  as  Violet 
observed,  took  his  time.  The  billiard-balls  twinkled 
obediently  to  and  fro,  urged  by  him  and  his  calcula- 
tions, meeting  occasionally  in  pleasant  little  shocks, 
or  shooting  into  pockets,  as  if  worked,  like  himself, 
by  springs.  By  threes  and  fours  and  fives,  the  score 
crept  up  meanwhile.  He  made  in  that  break  ninety 
or  thereabouts;  and  when  he  finally  stopped,  the 
balls  were  left  in  cheerless  isolation,  as  though  they 
had  said  farewell  to  each  other  for  ever. 

The  young  people  applauded  vigorously,  but 
Claude  was  grave.  It  might  have  been  called  by  the 
irresponsible  a  bedside  manner;  nor  could  there  be 
any  doubt  whose  bedside  it  was.  M.  de  Fervolles 
rose  with  a  compliment,  but  he  looked  rather  tired; 
for  he  was  no  fool  in  the  game,  and  though  he  still 
doubled  the  doctor's  score,  he  foresaw  his  fate.  He 
walked  round  to  the  top  of  the  table,  played,  and 
there  was  a  pause. 

"  Rate^''  said  Violet  to  her  father,  who  had  turned 
to  investigate  the  board.  "  Go  in  and  win,  darling," 
she  added  breathlessly.  Her  mother,  overhearing, 
glanced  at  her,  surprised. 

Claude  swung  about,  and  saw  by  his  opponent's 


444  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

face  that  it  was  so.  The  balls  lay  well  for  him,  and 
near  together. 

"  A  miss,"  he  remarked  to  Lucas,  who  had  not 
believed  his  eyes,  or  ears.  "Are  you  going,  Eve- 
leen*?  "  he  added  quickly. 

"  I  must,  if  Violet  will  not,"  she  said,  gathering 
up  her  scarf  to  go  upstairs.  "  Don't  be  too  long," 
she  added  calmly.  "  And  turn  the  lights  out,  when 
you  come." 

The  audience  stared  at  her  blankly,  dumbfounded. 
Was  she  human,  to  leave  a  match  at  such  a  point*? 
But  Mrs.  Ashwin  went,  moving  sublimely,  and  her 
husband  opened  the  door.  He  was  half-smiling  as 
he  returned  to  the  table  and,  going  to  the  balls, 
proceeded  to  shepherd  them  one-handed,  in  a  series 
of  careless  little  cannons,  into  the  corner. 

"  Oh,  pretty,"  said  Mr.  Dering  hopelessly,  as  the 
red  ran  suddenly  in,  and  the  Marquis'  ball  trickled 
down  the  table.  "  Why  didn't  you  tell  me  he  was  a 
blooming  pro*?  " —  in  a  wrathful  aside  to  his  sister. 
"  You  have  lost  me  five  pounds  by  this." 

"  The  only  time  I  saw  him,  he  played  with  me," 
Joan  murmured.  "  And  I  suppose  he  was  missing 
then  on  purpose.     So  like  a  man !  " 

Little  worth  dwelling  on  happened  after  this  for 
some  time,  except  that  the  doctor's  score  travelled 
steadily,  and  M.  de  FervoUes'  did  not.  Meanwhile, 
the  music  of  the  extra  numbers  of  a  prolonged  pro- 


HOME  AFFAIRS  445 

gramme  was  perfectly  audible  overhead.  Certain 
wandering  malcontents  from  the  melting  crowd 
above  came  down  to  seek  their  partners,  and  in  each 
case,  remained.  Two  of  these  frowning  gentlemen 
sat  down  at  Miss  Ashwin's  feet;  but  their  frowns 
cleared  simultaneously  at  a  brilliant  stroke  of  the 
doctor's,  and  they  began  to  whisper  together,  useless 
to  surmise  of  what.  Lady  Joan's  Tommy,  at  her 
side,  no  longer  even  acted  resignation,  far  less 
offence.  The  first  awe  of  the  spectators  was  giving 
way  to  amusement,  generally. 

When  he  saw  his  victim  in  his  grasp,  close  ahead, 
Dr.  Ashwin  relaxed  his  watchful  guard,  and  began 
to  treat  himself  and  the  world  to  a  little  virtuosity. 
He  did  rather  foolish  things,  missing  a  few  he 
attempted,  and  scoring  some  he  should  not  have 
counted  upon  simultaneously.  He  had  re-captured 
his  luck,  which  had  not  been  in  attendance  at  the 
debut.  Mr.  Gibbs  and  Mr.  Warden  raised  their 
brows  at  one  another,  and  some  of  the  young  men 
whistled.  He  missed  at  last  a  comparatively  easy 
chance  out  of  pure  heedlessness,  and  handed  the 
cue-rest  across  to  the  Marquis  with  a  laugh. 

Then  Mrs.  Ashwin,  having  seen  the  rooms  cleared 
above,  returned,  bringing  a  little  string  of  curious 
guests  with  her.  Spurred  by  her  appearance,  de 
Fervolles  made  a  highly  creditable  twenty,  fluked 
two,  and  then  missed.    After  that  he  retired  to  the 


446  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

side,  for  his  adversary  had  decided  to  make  up  time. 

The  master  of  the  house  combined  his  two  methods 
as  illustrated  in  the  earlier  game,  with  marked 
success.  He  was  impeccable,  and  impossible,  and 
fortunate,  and  quite  ridiculously  fast.  His  elvish 
blood  showed  again  in  some  of  his  attempts,  but  they 
all  came  off.  He  taught  the  younger  generation  how 
to  play  billiards, —  the  noble  game  his  wife  called 
low. 

Mr.  Gibbs  watched  him  with  pleasure  that  hardly 
left  room  for  surprise.  Triumph,  even  the  smallest, 
suited  Claude  like  an  accustomed  air.  He  looked 
his  best  on  the  crest  of  a  wave  of  rising  excitement. 
He  did  not  smile,  but  all  his  bearing  lightened  un- 
accountably. His  movements,  always  forcible  and 
easy,  held  the  eye.  It  was  more  than  manifest,  to 
the  Rector's  paternal  observation,  that  half  the 
maidens  in  the  room  had  lost  their  hearts  to  him. 

Another  person  noticed  this  latter  phenomenon 
also.  Eveleen  observed  her  husband  curiously,  set- 
tling even  deeper  among  the  velvet  cushions  of  her 
low  seat.  Her  look  said  she  found  him  a  grotesque 
person,  but  she  did  not  divert  her  gaze  to  the  gallant 

—  and  unsuccessful  —  Marquis.     Eveleen  detested 
misfortune,  connected  with  a  man.    She  only  wished 

—  still  —  that  Claude  would  be  quick,  because  she 
was  getting  sleepy. 

Claude  did  his  utmost  to  gratify  her,   as  was 


HOME  AFFAIRS  447 

obvious;  but  the  merest  clown,  he  would  have 
argued,  has  to  calculate  his  humorous  effects.  He 
was  calculating,  though  at  fever-heat, —  and  though 
nobody  present  gave  him  the  slightest  credit  for  it. 
That  is  the  invariable  penalty  of  adopting  giddy 
ideals,  in  ordinary  things. 

Lucas  Warden,  up  to  this  point  serious  and 
dignified  as  his  office  demanded,  lost  his  head  a  little 
in  the  last  lap  of  the  game;  and  began  to  drop  little 
remarks,  whenever  his  friend  passed  near  him, 
making  the  girls  beyond  giggle  rather  hysterically. 
Lucas  had  suffered  this  treatment  so  often  himself 
at  his  present  host's  hands,  that  he  really  enjoyed  the 
spectacle  of  another's  discomfiture.  It  is  to  be  hoped 
that  Mr.  Warden,  in  this  airy  mood,  scored  correctly; 
but  anyhow,  Violet  was  watching  him. 

"  It's  not  a  dissecting-table,  Ashwin,"  he  protested 
once.    "  In  public,  we  respect  the  corpse," 

A  little  later,  struck  by  the  contrast  of  the  player's 
intent  and  anxious  aspect,  with  the  soaring  figures 
he  had  just  put  up,  he  enquired  of  those  near 
him — "  Who's  the  man  beating  now"?  It's  no  one 
here." 

"  His  own  standard,"  said  Violet. 

It  reached  her  father,  and  he  showed  that  it  did 
so  by  a  gleam,  but  even  then  he  did  not  really  smile. 
He  ran  out  amid  frantic  acclamation,  all  the  little 
audience  on  its  feet;  and,  having  glanced  at  the 


448  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

clock  above  the  chimney,  asked  mute  leave  of  de 
Fervolles  to  finish  the  break,  which  was  a  record,  as 
his  daughter  guessed.  The  Marquis,  leaning  against 
the  wall,  made  a  gesture.  Violet  also  looked  in  that 
direction,  and  saw  that  he  had  never  learned,  in  his 
elaborate  education,  how  to  take  a  beating.  His 
was  not  even  a  "  brilliant  failure,"  it  was  a  sulky 
one. 

Violet's  mother,  in  the  deep  seat  at  her  side,  had 
apparently  succumbed  to  its  comfort,  the  tense 
silence  of  excitement  as  the  long  break  approached 
its  close,  and  the  mild  heat  of  the  room.  The  deli- 
cate click  of  the  balls  was  soothing,  her  husband  un- 
usually light  of  foot,  and  the  hour  unmistakably  ad- 
vanced. There  was  plenteous  excuse  for  a  weary 
hostess;  and  Eveleen  availed  herself  of  all  of  it. 

*'  Oh,  Lord,"  said  Bill  Bering,  when  all  was  over, 
and  the  money  had  changed  hands.  "  W^ell,  it  was 
worth  it!  I  never  saw  such  a  style  I  It's  just 
flashy,  if  the  board  wasn't  there  to  prove  you  wrong. 
And  how  the  deuce,  looking  at  him,  is  a  fellow  to 
know^" 

"  '  Who's  Who,'  would  have  told  you  it's  his 
favourite  vice,"  said  Charles,  who  had  neither  lost 
nor  won,  and  was  consequently  calm. 

"Did  he  back  himself,  do  you  suppose?"  said 
Bill. 


HOME  AFFAIRS  449 

The  secretary  shook  his  head.  "  He  told  me  once 
he  never  could:  he's  so  hopelessly  self-conscious  and 
downhearted  just  before.  And  for  the  same  reason, 
if  I  back  him,  I  mustn't  let  on  till  it's  over.  I  am 
going  to  tell  him  now." 

"  What  a  peculiar  card,"  said  William  thought- 
fully. "  Joan,  look  here :  are  you  ever  going  to  make 
a  move*?  They  must  be  about  sick  of  us,  and  Mrs. 
Ashwin  is  asleep.  ...  I  say,  keep  an  eye  on 
that  fellow,"  he  added  under  his  breath,  as  de  Fer- 
volles  passed  them  in  the  general  move.  "  I  want  to 
see  how  he  takes  it.  It's  a  fairly  complete  knock- 
out." 

"  With  the  left  hand,"  agreed  a  neighbouring  man 
who  overheard. 

"  Au  revoir.  Mademoiselle,"  said  M.  de  FervoUes, 
in  French,  to  Violet.  "  It  is  an  enchantment,  the  play 
of  M.  your  Papa.  A  languorous  enchantment,  pos- 
sibly, for  those  that  watch.  Madame  your  mother 
looks  ereintee, —  tired  to  death." 

"  How  generous  of  you  I  "  said  Violet,  her  hands 
clasped  carelessly  behind  her,  as  she  leant  against 
the  wall.  ''Bon  voyage^  Monsieur;  I  do  hope  the 
Channel  will  behave.  .  .  .  Oh,  Mr.  Ford,  good 
night.  What*?  Well,  I  call  that  ignoble  of  you, 
profiting  by  our  agony  I  Oh  yes,  he  prolonged  it  on 
purpose  to  start  with, —  so  like  him  I    Going,  Joan 


450  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

dearest?     Wasn't  it  great?     Do  you  terribly  mind 
keeping  quiet,  for  poor  Mother?    Exhausted,  yes:  it 
has  been  such  a  strain  for  us,  you  know. 
Oh,  hush,  Mr.  DeringI     He  has  not  gone  far,  and 
he  follows  more  easily  than  you'd  think." 

De  Fer voiles  had  not  gone  far,  not  even  out  of 
hearing.  He  had  moved  from  her  to  the  left,  the 
press  still  behind  him,  and  stopped  opposite  Mrs. 
Ashwin.  He  was  in  embarrassment,  evidently,  what 
to  do.  Eveleen  was  a  lovely  spectacle  as  usual,  the 
black  velvet  cushions  all  about  her  making  a  perfect 
frame  for  her  soft  hair,  and  dazzling  skin.  But  she 
was, —  or  appeared  to  be, —  asleep ;  and  a  guest, 
even  though  he  should  regard  himself  as  a  favourite, 
can  hardly  go  so  far  as  to  tread  upon  his  hostess, 
however  dire  his  need.  De  FervoUes  was  in  need 
at  that  moment,  as  his  expression  testified.  He 
could  not  —  would  not  believe  she  intended  to 
ignore  him,  yet  he  lacked  the  means  to  prove  whether 
she  did  or  no.  He  hung  doubtful,  wavered,  turned, 
and  threw  a  glance  backward.    It  was  most  unwise. 

"  Look  at  her, —  do  look!  "  muttered  Joan  to  her 
brother  in  ecstasy. 

Yet  there  was  little  to  see.  Miss  Ashwin,  looking 
her  prettiest,  was  still  leaning  carelessly  against 
the  whitewashed  wall,  her  hands  behind  her  back, 
her  lashes  drooping,  her  eyes  turned  sidelong  upon 


HOME  AFFAIRS  451 

the  Marquis'  leave-taking.  She  was  pensively  silent, 
and  dense  silence  reigned  among  her  young  acquaint- 
ance also,  the  men  following  the  girls,  the  girls 
taking  the  cue  from  Lady  Joan,  who  had  her  hand 
pressed  frankly  across  her  mouth.  For,  as  was  evi- 
dent really  to  the  least  accomplished  observer,  an 
emphatic  word,  spoken  carelessly,  might  easily  have 
aroused  the  sleeper.  And  Violet's  circle,  charmed 
to  abet  her,  left  that  word,  by  one  accord,  to  be 
spoken  by  the  Marquis. 

M.  de  Fervolles,  prudently  perhaps,  did  not  utter 
it,  at  least  aloud.  Feeling  was  too  evidently  against 
him,  and  retreat  was  best.  His  final,  much  over- 
acted, scowl  at  the  defaulting  daughter  of  the  house 
was  a  natural  entertainment  to  her  visitors:  and  his 
stiff-legged  departure,  on  any  less  solemn  occasion, 
would  have  been  convulsing.  Yet,  to  the  last,  not  a 
soul  dared  express  appreciation,  or  even  congratulate 
the  chief  actor, —  \'iolet  was  so  graceful  and  so 
serious. 

"  Do  you  suppose  the  beast  had  insulted  her'?  " 
gasped  William,  quite  overawed,  to  Joan,  as  they 
retired  up  the  room. 

"  Not  a  doubt  of  it,"  said  Joan  contemptuously. 
"  Violet  is  a  girl  who  means  all  she  does  always. 
You  can  see  her  meaning  it,  too." 

"  Well,  they're  a  sporting  gang,  and  no  mistake," 


452  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

said  Bill,  with  a  long  sigh.  "  Tell  you  what,  Joan," 
his  feelings  resolved  themselves  upon  the  door-step, 
"I've  seldom,  if  ever,  enjoyed  an  evening  more." 

And  that  was  a  true  echo  of  the  opinion  of  Bill's 
world,  on  Violet's  birthday  entertainment.  The 
Ashwins  were,  and  remained,  sky-high  in  the  general 
estimation.  We  will  not  enquire  —  we  dare  not  — 
either  how  far  the  opinions  so  freely  interchanged 
among  them,  the  sympathy  so  frankly  expressed, 
were  just  or  discriminating;  nor  how  far  a  delicate 
national  feeling  may  have  crept  in  amongst  youth's 
mingled  sentiments,  to  spur  both  the  interest  and 
the  partisanship  on  the  occasion. 

Much  later,  or  rather  less  early,  that  night,  there 
was  a  quiet  tap  at  Violet's  door.  She  went  to  it,  and 
looked  out. 

"Father^  Nobody  ill,  is  there?"  she  asked, 
alarmed. 

"  May  I  come  in  a  moment?  "  he  said. 

She  let  him  come.  He  was  carrying  a  small  glass, 
which  he  laid  suggestively  on  the  chimney-piece 
beside  her.  She  had  been  leaning  there,  reading, 
when  he  disturbed  her.  Violet  regarded  the  glass 
with  neither  approval,  nor  distaste.  He  had  dis- 
covered that  she  had  not  been  sleeping  lately,  and 
she  generally  took  his  prescriptions  with  an  open 
mind,  becoming  to  the  daughter  of  a  celebrity. 


HOME  AFFAIRS  453 

Having  deposited  this  excuse  for  intrusion,  he 
apologised,  and  dropped  himself  into  a  chair,  resting 
his  head  on  his  hand. 

"  No  I  "  Violet  exclaimed,  "  this  is  not  to  be  borne ! 
Now,  listen  to  me.  You  ought  to  see  a  good  doctor, 
at  once.  I  shall  send  a  friendly  line  to  Mr.  Forrest 
to-morrow." 

"  Let  me  be,"  he  returned.  "  It  is  simply  giddi- 
ness, resulting  from  a  prolonged  mental  strain.  I 
have  been  talking  to  your  mother,  Violet," 

Violet's  hand,  which  had  moved  to  the  little  glass, 
dropped  at  her  side. 

"  I  gather,"  said  Claude,  still  low,  but  detaching 
the  words  clearly,  "  more  from  your  mother's  man- 
ner than  from  anything  she  has  said,  that  your  sum- 
mons to  revolt  came  in  time."  Then,  dreading  lest, 
by  any  inadvertence  of  his,  she  should  fail  com- 
pletely to  understand, —  "  I  mean,"  he  added,  "  that 
she  did  not  betray  my  enforced  confidence  in  her  at 
Dering  completely;  that  she  has  not  given  my  — 
our  honour  completely  away." 

He  stopped :  instantly  the  girl  swung  to  face  him. 

"  I  congratulate  you.  Father,"  she  said  in  his  own 
tone,  concentrated  and  subdued.  "  How  beautifully 
put, —  and  how  good  of  you  to  tell  me.  Of  all  the 
examples  of  your  goodness  and  courage,"  she  pro- 
ceeded, warming,  "  that  have  ever  come  before  me, 
this  is  the  most  wonderful,  I  believe." 


454  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

"  It  is  your  due,"  he  said. 

"  Just  so,"  said  Violet,  still  concentrated.  "  Ex- 
actly. But  how  many  fathers  in  London  would 
have  thought  so*?  The  doctors  at  number  ten  and 
number  twenty-seven  would  probably  have  smiled 
enigmatically,  and  left  their  miserable  girls  to 
guess."  She  approached  him.  "  You  are  not,  I 
regret  to  tell  you,  a  strong,  silent  man.  Your  smiles 
are  perfectly  comprehensible,  more  so  than  any 
man's  I  know.  Your  behaviour  on  various  occasions, 
but  eminently  when  you  staggered  to  that  chair 
just  now,  precludes  the  possibility." 

"  What  allusion  is  this^  "  he  enquired,  turning  his 
head,  still  on  his  hand. 

"  Nothing,"  said  Violet.  "  Nothing, —  I  am  rav- 
ing,—  relief.  It  simply  amounts  to  this,  really. 
There  is  something  in  the  mastery  of  our  language, 
after  all.  I  defy  Mr.  Peacock  himself,  henceforth, 
to  prove  me  wrong.  Now,"  she  perorated  grandly, 
"  I  will  tell  you  something  in  return." 

Claude  dropped  his  hand.  "Already I"  he  ex- 
claimed. 

"  Not  already,"  retorted  Violet.  "  Nothing  of  the 
sort.  I  ought  to  mention,  in  summing  up  your 
character.  Father,  you  have  faults.  You  are  hasty. 
You  expect  everybody  to  live  at  the  same  red-hot, 
quite  unreasonable  pace  as  yourself.  If  you  had 
had  the  curiosity, —  the  natural  curiosity, —  to 
glance  at  my  programme  to-night, " 


HOME  AFFAIRS  455 

"  Forgive  me,  Pussy,"  he  said  humbly. 

"  You  would  have  seen  that  I  gave  that  gentle- 
man one  dance  and  an  extra.  And  of  those,  the 
first  I  was  tired  insincerely,  and  sat  out;  and  the 
second  I  abandoned  altogether,  with  a  careless  ex- 
cuse, to  watch  my  father  playing  billiards." 

"  Forgive  me,"  he  repeated.     "  I  retire." 

"  What  I  had  meant  to  tell  you,"  said  Violet, 
"  was  this.  I  inform  you  after  the  event,  like  Mr. 
Ford.  I  have  backed  you  throughout  this  affair.  I 
never  lost  the  hope  you  would  turn  a  Brilliant 
Failure  into  a  Certain  Success." 

"  No,  no,  not  that,"  he  said  quickly.  "  It  never 
can  be  certain  in  the  circumstances.  Demonstrably 
probable,  let  us  say." 

"You  hopeless  Precisian  I"  cried  Violet,  with  a 
little  shudder  of  laughter  that  brought  her  head 
upon  her  hands,  and  the  tears  into  her  eyes  simul- 
taneously. Then,  making  up  her  mind  to  immediate 
duty,  she  dropped  her  hands,  seized  the  little  glass, 
and  drank  off  the  contents.  From  the  pinnacle  of 
virtue  thus  attained,  she  proceeded  to  deliver  a 
health-lecture,  emphatically  worded,  and  from  very 
close  quarters,  to  the  great  specialist  who  had  so 
rashly  ventured  within  her  domain. 

Claude  listened  gravely, —  content  to  linger  in  this 
little  haven  of  peace  and  purity,  since  he  knew 
Eveleen  was  by  now  asleep,  and  the  door  between 
their  respective  rooms  shut  fast.     Only  one  strand 


456  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

of  his  brain  was  working,  but  it  worked  lucidly,  he 
found,  on  the  whole.  It  struck  him,  listening,  Violet 
was  right,  though  he  failed  to  follow  all  her  scientific 
terminology.  However,  she  soared  easily  in  dis- 
course above  such  trifles.  She  dealt  with  social 
obligations  in  general,  touched  on  history  and  the 
Ashwin  device, —  so  freely  translated  that  he  barely 
recognised  it, —  glanced  gracefully  at  the  little 
matter  of  loyalty  and  his  service  to  the  Throne,  and 
entrenched  herself  upon  his  duty  to  the  domestic 
circle  —  herself,  apparently,  and  Mr.  Ford. 

That  duty,  when  elaborated  by  the  lecturer, 
seemed  to  consist  mainly  in  retaining  a  certain  hour 
(Claude  repeated  it  to  himself)  before  which  he 
was  not  to  dare  to  show  himself  in  the  morning. 
He  had  meant,  of  course,  to  say  something  of  the 
sort  to  Violet,  but  it  seemed  useless  now.  She  would 
entertain  Arthur  Gibbs,  he  understood, —  she  and 
Ford.  The  inclusion  of  his  secretary's  name  at  every 
juncture  was  significant.  Claude  began  to  fear  she 
and  Ford  had  wasted  their  sitting-out  leisure  in 
criticising  him, —  a  distressful  thing  to  contemplate 
for  the  host  and  head  of  a  household.  At  least, 
Violet  had  got  hold  of  some  things  that,  treachery 
apart,  she  should  certainly  not  have  known,  and  he 
thought  he  tracked  the  traitor.  He  determined 
vaguely  to  speak  to  Ford  about  this, —  when  Violet 
should  allow  him,  of  course, —  in  the  morning. 


HOME  AFFAIRS  457 

"  Sensible,  isn't  it"?  "  finished  the  lecturer  vigor- 
ously, the  tips  of  her  line  fingers  touching  his  head 
to  either  side.  "  In  the  circumstances,  I  mean.  The 
circumstances  are  quite  good,  properly  regarded. 
The  situation  promising,  for  all  of  us.  Now,  just  go 
to  bed  and  think  it  over,  do  you  mind"?  " 

He  nodded,  still  grave.  He  really  could  not  think 
of  anything  to  say  to  her,  sweet  as  she  was.  Nor 
could  he  rise.  He  supposed, —  diagnosing  himself 
with  conscious  clarity, —  that  the  effort  of  circum- 
venting Eveleen,  slippery,  impenetrable,  mercilessly 
seductive,  had  really  left  him  a  little  dazed.  He 
had  not  attacked,  he  had  been  frankly  too  weary, 
after  the  almost  superhuman  effort  of  the  day;  it 
was  she  who,  with  the  instjuit  of  her  insatiable  kind, 
had  sought  to  entwine  him  again.  He  had  been 
roused  to  resistance  in  self-defence,  and  had  learnt 
all  he  cared  to  know  of  past  history  —  granted 
always  she  was  not  lying, —  on  the  way.  He  had 
gathered  up  that  evidence  for  the  girl's  reassurance 
chiefly,  it  could  mean  little  to  himself  now.  He  had 
released  himself  finally  from  her  coils,  with  the  aid 
of  words  he  had  not  chosen, —  brutal  words,  he  sup- 
posed, since  she  had  understood, —  but  he  felt  stung. 
Mortally  or  not,  in  the  resulting  languor  he  could 
not  say.  He  felt  it  more  under  the  charm  of  this 
little  dry  voice,  and  the  touch  of  delicate  hands  on 
his  brow.    After  that  other  scene,  those  words  spoken 


458  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

certainly  by  his  voice,  for  he  heard  them  still,  Violet 
ought  not  to  touch  him,  of  course.  Yet  she  did, 
persistently, —  he  could  not  but  wonder  if  she  knew. 

"  Go,  darling,"  said  Violet,  after  the  long  pause, 
very  low.    "  Leave  me, —  you  must.    I  am  so  tired''' 

It  spurred  him,  and  he  sprang  erect.  She  had 
found  perhaps  the  one  phrase  in  the  world  that 
would  have  done  so,  for  the  habit  of  service  is  strong. 
He  apologised,  picked  up  the  glass  quite  mechani- 
cally, and  left  her.  She  clung  to  the  mantelshelf, 
forcing  herself  fiercely,  furiously,  not  to  cry  till  he 
was  gone. 


VI 

CONCLUSION 

Mr.  Gibbs  was  not  so  "  hasty  "  by  temperament  as 
his  brother-in-law,  and  it  was  April  before  he  again 
thought  it  necessary  to  take  stock  of  his  stepson's 
love-affair.  At  that  period  of  the  year's  festival, 
when  enchanting  Dickens-land  was  looking  its  best, 
and  all  the  Glasswell  cherry  trees  were  wearing 
white  for  Easter-tide,  Mr.  Joliffe  brought  a  party 
down  to  the  Rectory  for  the  inside  of  a  day,  con- 
sisting of  Charles  and  Violet,  and  another  young 
gentleman  with  whom  Miss  Ashwin  was  temporarily 
in  love.     This  may  need  a  little  explanation. 

Mrs.  Eccles  took  longer  than  was  expected  to 
recover  from  the  operation,  and  it  was  not  until 
March  that  Alice  and  her  husband  were  able  to 
send  her  to  Holybrook  Farm,  near  Barnstaple,  where 
Abel's  mother,  who  was  Alice's  friend,  had  long  been 
waiting  to  receive  her.  Mrs.  Eccles  was  in  such 
terror  of  Dr.  Ashwin  (who  had  treated  her  abomi- 
nably) that  during  the  whole  of  that  long  interval 
she  had  abstained  from  excesses,  and  was  consider- 
ably better,  morally  and  physically,  in  consequence. 


46o  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

But  Alice  knew  her  too  well  to  trust  her  long;  and 
towards  Easter  she  was  allowed  by  her  husband  to 
go  down  for  a  week,  and  breathe  the  country  air,  and 
renew  her  old  acquaintances  at  the  farm.  She  talked 
a  great  deal  to  her  mother-in-law  during  this  short 
visit,  and  on  her  return  to  London,  left  her  mother 
behind  her  in  Mrs.  Peacock's  charge  without  scruple, 
bringing  Mrs.  Peacock's  youngest  son  Christopher 
to  Wimbledon  in  Mrs.  Eccles'  stead. 

Alice  had  of  course  foreseen  that  Abel  would 
resent  his  brother's  presence  a  little  on  the  domestic 
hearth;  especially  as  Kit  was  an  imp,  and  ten  times 
cleverer  than  he.  Alice  herself  thought  well  to  look 
aside  when  Kit  was  cuffed  occasionally,  though  she 
loved  him  as  devotedly  as  ever,  and  took  most  com- 
petent charge  of  him  at  home.  Abroad  it  was  more 
difficult  to  do  so,  for  she  was  much  tied  to  the  house. 
Alice  had  left  Lennoxes  perforce  on  her  marriage, 
but  she  plied  her  chosen  trade  indefatigably  in  the 
intervals  of  keeping  house  for  Abel,  and  earned  very 
nearly  as  much  as  he  did,  though  he  was  prosper- 
ing. For  she  was  now  regularly  employed  by  the 
great  Mrs.  Ashwin,  who  was  trusting  herself  and 
her  worldly  credit  more  and  more,  as  time  went  on, 
to  Mrs.  Peacock's  capable  hands.  Thus  Alice  lost 
nothing  material  by  the  change  from  Lennoxes,  and 
Mrs.  Ashwin  gained  enormously:  for  she  paid  less 
and  looked  better  than  ever  she  had  done.     She 


HOME  AFFAIRS  461 

gained  also  in  other  ways,  as  Eveleen  could  be 
trusted  to  gain;  for,  being  pestered  on  all  sides  by 
her  acquaintance  for  the  address  of  her  new  dis- 
covery, she  held  quite  a  number  of  useful  people  in 
play  by  withholding  it;  reserving  it,  doubtless,  with 
perfect  commercial  instinct,  for  the  best  offer, 
later  on. 

Mrs.  Ashwin's  daughter,  meanwhile,  was  working 
daily  in  the  studio  at  Miss  Lennox's  side,  though 
both  she  and  Miss  Lennox  lost  sadly,  in  different 
ways,  by  Alice's  dissociation  from  the  business. 
Failing  Alice,  Violet  undertook  the  ma'hagement  of 
Miss  Lennox  and  her  affairs  with  an  address  less 
conspicuous,  but  quite  as  remarkable  in  its  way. 
Miss  Lennox  was  persuaded  to  extravagances  in 
the  matter  of  space  and  furnishing,  of  which  the 
long-lamented  Miss  Moffat  would  certainly  have 
disapproved.  But  Miss  Ashwin's  purse  and  per- 
sonality, in  combination,  constituted  a  reinforce- 
ment in  life  of  which  Miss  Lennox  had  never  ven- 
tured, in  Miss  Moffat's  day,  even  to  dream;  and  in 
her  wondering  appreciation  of  present  good,  the 
faithfully  adorned  image  of  Miss  Moffat  was  being 
gently  blotted,  day  by  day,  from  Miss  Lennox's 
tenacious  mind.  The  fact  that  the  former  partner 
had  ceased  altogether  to  answer  her  letters  may 
possibly  have  contributed  to  this  phenomenon. 

Since  Violet's  breakdown  in  the  autumn,  however, 


462  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

and  the  short  and  singular  letter  from  her  father  to 
the  head  of  the  firm  that  ensued  upon  it, —  entirely 
devoted,  as  Miss  Lennox  explained  to  Mrs.  Gibbs, 
to  the  acutest  financial  advice  concerning  the  ac- 
counts that  had  been  submitted  to  him,  and  only 
alluding  to  Violet  once,  in  an  amusing  postscript,- — 
Miss  Lennox  had  kept  a  very  tender  watch  upon 
the  girl,  and,  as  Easter  approached,  insisted  on  her 
taking  "  a  real  holiday."  Violet,  espying  profitable 
employment  in  another  quarter,  submitted  tamely 
to  authority  for  once;  and  thereupon,  since  Alice 
was  what  she  termed  "  off  colour  "  and  keeping  the 
house,  Violet  received  at  her  hands  sole  charge  of 
Kit  in  the  afternoons,  with  the  avowed  intention 
of  showing  him  the  sights  of  London. 

,  It  is  quite  doubtful  if  any  thoroughly  undeserving 
young  scamp  ever  enjoyed  such  a  wonderland  before, 
as  that  to  which  Miss  Ashwin  and  Joliffe  in  com- 
bination introduced  him.  Quite  a  new  side  of 
London  life,  already  intensely  interesting  to  a 
country  youth,  became  apparent  to  Kit's  intelligent 
mind;  and,  his  ambition  fired  instantly,  he  used  his 
patroness  mercilessly  for  his  purposes;  forcing  her 
to  do  about  twice  what  she  had  intended,  every  day. 
Joliffe  seized  every  opportunity  to  snub  him  sharply 
on  the  sly,  but  it  was  useless.  Kit  at  fourteen  hardly 
recognised  a  snub,  and,  as  he  was  deeply  interested 
in  Joliffe  and  his  work,  found  it  more  convenient  to 


HOME  AFFAIRS  463 

ignore  his  disapproval,  and  court  him  diligently. 
He  sat  beside  Joliffe  on  the  front  seat  all  the  way 
down  to  Glasswell;  and  the  pair  behind  were  in 
ecstasies  at  the  cool  assumption,  conveyed  to  them 
by  the  breeze  at  intervals,  in  his  remarks. 

Violet  had  bade  Margery  get  out  her  materials  to 
paint  her  protege ;  for  Kit  was  exactly  like  a  Romney 
picture  without,  whatever  he  may  have  been  like 
within;  but  she  reckoned  without  the  model,  who 
declined  the  honour  promptly,  and  escaped.  Kit 
did  not  at  all  see  the  sense  of  frittering  away  even 
half  an  hour  of  the  time  granted  him  in  such  a  place. 
As  a  fact,  he  saw  everything,  and  was  served  by  all. 
He  broke  Mr.  Gibbs'  heart  by  thinking  nothing  of 
the  garden,  saying  that  Abel's  at  Wimbledon  was 
far  better,  and  that  if  Mr.  Gibbs  would  be  at  a 
certain  rendezvous  at  a  certain  time.  Kit  himself 
would  conduct  him  over  it.  He  took  in  the  church 
in  silence,  for  he  had  been  well  brought  up,  appear- 
ing meek  and  looking  saintly.  But  on  emerging 
from  the  porch,  he  was  holding  a  dead  mouse  by 
the  tail,  which  he  discovered,  he  explained  to  his 
hostess,  down  by  the  organ.  It  was  Kit's  opinion 
that  the  organist  (Mrs.  Gibbs)  might  have  killed  it 
unintentionally  with  her  feet  during  service  the  day 
before.  It  was  quite  a  long  time  before  the  Rector's 
wife, —  who  concealed  a  weak-minded  disgust  for 
mice, —  played  that  organ  in  comfort  again. 


464  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

Thus  much  of  Kit.  To  sum  him  up,  he  attracted, 
with  the  least  possible  effort,  such  a  large  measure 
of  attention,  that  the  proceedings  of  Charles  and 
Violet  could  hardly  be  observed  at  all.  There 
seemed  little  to  observe  indeed,  the  girl  fitted  her 
usual  place  in  the  scene  so  perfectly,  unless  it  were 
the  marked  absence  of  all  Charles'  accustomed 
buoyancy.  The  Rector  even  wondered  in  private 
if  she  overrated  his  capacity  for  persistence,  for  his 
depression  was  obvious,  even  on  the  subject  of  his 
work,  where  he  need  have  had  no  doubts:  and  he 
looked  older  and  harassed  to  his  sisters'  eyes. 

As  for  his  mother,  if  she  knew  more  of  his  state 
of  mind,  she  kept  her  counsel.  It  is  probable  she 
did,  for  her  son  rarely  came  down  to  Glasswell  in 
these  days  without  a  private  interview :  which  Mrs. 
Gibbs  never  sought  on  her  own  account,  letting 
Charles,  in  his  own  absent  and  erratic  fashion,  dis- 
cover the  necessity. 

"  Isn't  she  straining  him  unnecessarily*? "  the 
Rector  asked  her  cautiously  that  night. 

"  On  the  contrary,"  the  mother  answered  at  once, 
"  she'll  snap  first,  if  this  goes  on.  I  warned  her, — 
but  she  only  laughed." 

The  dog  Erasmus  who,  having  investigated  Kit 
in  his  manner,  recognised  a  relationship  to  his  long- 
lost  Peacock,  thereafter  stuck  to  him  like  wax.  At 
parting  he  made  wild  efforts  to  follow  Kit  into  the 


HOME  AFFAIRS  465 

carriage,  in  spite  of  bulk,  and  age;  and  both  the 
pretty  Miss  Gibbses  had  to  wreathe  their  arms  about 
him,  and  appeal  to  his  oldest  affections  in  heart- 
breaking terms,  before  he  would  stir  from  the  step. 
Margery  kissed  his  head  repeatedly  as  well,  but  Bob 
Brading  looked  on  at  it  unmoved;  and  made  in 
succession,  for  Miss  Ashwin's  benefit,  absolutely  the 
only  correct  and  sensible  remarks  that  were  made  on 
the  premises  that  day.  For  Robert,  in  Charles' 
absence,  had  become  for  all  practical  purposes  the 
son  of  the  house.  Kit  threw  Erasmus  the  mouse 
(which  he  had  kept)  to  console  him,  and  the  party 
started  home. 

Half-way  home  in  the  spring  twilight,  while  Kit 
slept  peacefully  in  the  comer,  Charles  captured 
Violet's  hand,  including  by  degrees  her  arm  as  far  as 
the  elbow,  for  he  had  come  unrighteously  close,  and 
asked  her  if  she  had  no  pity,  and  if  he  might  not 
speak. 

"  Just  as  you  like,"  said  Violet.  "  But  I  should 
not  advise  it,  really."  She  leant,  looking  at  the 
white  cherry  trees  through  the  dusk  with  her  bright 
elvish  eyes. 

"  Of  course  you  can  talk  me  down,"  said  Charles. 
"  I  nevei'  doubted  that."    He  halted  miserably. 

"  Didn't  you*?  "  said  Violet.  "  Not  ever  so  long 
ago  in  that  canoe*?  Think,  Charles.  You  had  so 
much  to  tell  me  then." 


466  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

"  Only  because  you  helped  me, —  I  mean,  your 
eyes." 

She  laughed  a  compliment  to  his  eloquence :  then, 
since  he  did  not  see  fit  to  release  her,  frowned.  But 
she  did  not  draw  her  arm  away,  for  he  was  panting 
a  little,  and  Violet  had  a  high-bred  horror  of 
struggles.  He  let  her  hand  go  at  last,  having  kissed 
it  furiously;  and  she  withdrew,  dainty  skirts  and 
all,  away  from  him,  and  nearer  to  the  sleeping  child. 

Altogether  on  that  day  the  net  results  arrived  at 
were  Bob  Brading's  bet  to  his  fiancee  (utterly  in- 
defensible, of  course)  that  Shovell  would  not  bring 
it  off  within  the  year;  and  Joliffe's  opinion,  de- 
livered weightily  to  the  servants'  hall  at  Harley 
Street,  that  Miss  Violet  was  backing  away,  if  any- 
thing: and  that  personally  he  did  not  see  why  that 
young  Shovell  need  think  himself  so  much  better 
than  other  people,  anyhow. 

That  young  Shovell  did  not,  by  slow  degrees.  He 
had  months  of  instruction  before  him.  In  early 
May,  Miss  Ashwin  was  presented  at  Court,  and 
Charles  heard  nothing  of  it  till,  the  following  day, 
he  overheard  her  remark  to  an  acquaintance  that 
the  poor  Man  had  looked  so  tired,  that  Father  said 
he  had  just  risen  from  a  sickbed  of  influenza,  and 
that  She,  in  Violet's  opinion,  ought  to  have  pre- 
vented it.  Then  he  realised,  with  a  shock,  that  she 
was  really  out,  launched  well  in  the  forefront  on  the 


HOME  AFFAIRS  467 

stream  of  the  summer  season,  that  retirement  and 
Lennoxes  were  things  of  the  past,  and  that,  do  as  he 
would,  he  could  not  keep  her  from  other  men. 

The  summary  after  that  serious  event  had  better 
be  rapid.  In  May,  Mr.  Gibbs  wrote  to  his  brother- 
in-law  as  follows: 

"  My  Dear  Claude, 

"  This  won't  do,  you  know.  You  must  get 
your  young  party  to  be  more  gentle,  because  ours 
shows  signs  of  wear.  The  boy  really  has  a  sensitive 
constitution,  as  she  does  not  seem  to  realise,  and 
feels  her  shafts  more  than  she  knows.  You  quivered 
people  should  be  careful,  sharp  words  can  do  such 
harm.  I  do  not  want  to  blame  anybody,  but  it 
looks  a  shade  vindictive  at  this  stage,  and  if  he 
comes  to  suspect  that  —  gare  a  elle.  These  warnings 
for  your  common  good,  and  now  it's  over. 

"  Smirks,  by  the  way,  upon  the  Birthday  List. 
How  many  times,  Claude,  have  I  congratulated  you, 
but  never  with  my  present  insincerity.  All  the  cor- 
rect things  to  Lady  Ashwin  too.  I  hope  she  is  satis- 
fied now,  but  I  gather  from  your  last  she  thinks  you 
can  do  better  if  you  try.  Meanwhile,  she  tries  — 
others. 

"  N.  B. —  I  have  the  happy  ndtion  of  marking 
these  observations  Private,  to  escape  the  researches 
of  Ford." 


468  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

Sir  Claude  Ashwin  replied  —  most  improperly  — 
on  a  postcard : 

"  Thanks.     Go  to  the  devil—  C." 

And  that  little  correspondence  closed. 

In  June,  \^iolet  took  tea  with  Mr.  Lucas  Warden, 
and,  as  Mr.  Warden  was  fully  persuaded,  listened  to 
reason.  At  any  rate  she  kissed  him  at  parting,  a 
thing  which  she  had  never  done  before,  and  thanked 
him  charmingly  too.  Only  she  returned  home  to 
treat  Charles  just  as  before,  with  even  greater  con- 
centration, if  possible. 

Later  in  June,  Miss  Ashwin  met  a  Cabinet 
Minister  at  a  garden-party,  and  was  blest  with  his 
fascinating  conversation  —  vide  the  best  books, — 
for  the  space  of  an  hour,  on  the  terrace  of  a  country 
house.  This  fact  got  abroad,  much  was  made  of  it, 
and  everybody  who  knew  anything  about  anything, 
commiserated  Charles.  He  was  in  anguish  until  it 
became  known,  that  Miss  Ashwin  had  not  only  not 
refused  the  right  honourable  gentleman,  but  that  she 
had  never  even  been  asked  to  marry  him.  He  simply 
proceeded  upon  his  starry  course  with  a  lastingly 
higher  opinion  of  the  feminine  intelligence:  which 
everyone  may  hope,  did  him  and  his  Cabinet  good. 

All  the  autumn,  Violet  was  away,  in  houses  to 
which  Charles  was  not  invited.  Only  for  a  few 
fleeting  hours  of  a  September  day,  they  met  at  Glass- 
well,  coming  from  opposite  directions  to  fulfil  their 


HOME  AFFAIRS  469 

offices  as  bridesmaid  and  groomsman  at  the  Brading 
wedding.  On  this  occasion,  regarding  herself,  it 
may  be,  rather  officially  than  as  a  private  person, 
Violet  behaved  to  him  with  such  gentle  and  absent 
decorum,  that  Charles  lost  his  head  completely,  and 
was  perhaps  the  least  competent  "  best  man "  of 
all  who  have  ever  been  called  upon  to  take  the  post. 
In  fact,  he  was  prompted  by  Sir  Robert,  the  whole 
time.  Margery  bade  Violet,  with  her  parting  kiss, 
"  be  kind  to  Charlie  " ;  and  it  is  doubtful  if  Margery 
was  thinking  solely  of  her  bet  in  doing  so. 

In  November,  he  saw  her  again,  and  was  an  occu- 
pant of  the  car  the  day  she  went  down  to  Wimble- 
don, to  visit  young  Mrs.  Peacock's  baby.  Charles 
would  have  thought,  had  he  at  this  stage  been  able 
to  think  anything  against  her,  that  she  might  have 
let  him  off  this  ordeal.  She  did  so  to  the  extent  of 
leaving  him  in  the  car,  for  she  wanted  to  talk  to 
Alice;  but  Alice,  pale  but  beautiful  inconceivably, 
with  her  son  in  her  arms,  and  Abel  beaming  behind, 
came  to  the  door  to  see  Violet  off;  and  for  a  moment 
Charles,  who  had  shrunk  from  Alice  for  a  year  past, 
was  forced  to  view  the  whole.  At  the  moment  when 
he  did  so,  he  thanked  Heaven  as  man  must  for  grant- 
ing him  an  unequalled  spectacle;  and  thereafter  he 
never  shrank,  even  in  thought,  again. 

"  I  do  congratulate  you,  Mr.  Peacock,"  said  Violet 
on  the  doorstep.     "  Do  you  really  think  your  Father 


470  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

down  at  Holybrook  could  hold  out?  Might  you  not 
try  —  one  of  your  nice  letters'?  I  am  sure  it  is  just 
the  very  moment  now."    Which  it  proved. 

The  evening  of  the  same  day,  Violet  laid  herself 
along  her  father's  chair,  in  the  half-light  of  the  hall, 
and  told  him  quietly  about  Alice,  and  Peacock,  and 
the  baby,  and  how  they  were  like  a  certain  Venetian 
picture  of  a  certain  group  of  three;  and  how  Mrs. 
Eccles  was  teasing  Alice  in  her  weakness  with  hate- 
ful, selfish  reminiscences  of  the  boy  who  died;  and 
other  things,  for  the  medical  ear  alone,  that  in  that 
company  she  need  not  fear  to  say.  When  she  with- 
drew from  him  in  the  dusk  she  was  crying;  but 
Claude,  in  deep  reflection,  did  not  realise  that  until 
Eveleen  joined  him,  and  reproached  him  sharply  with 
his  folly  in  spoiling  Violet's  appearance  on  an  occa- 
sion of  importance, —  for  they  were  going  out. 

Dr.  Ashwin  went  down  in  his  turn  to  Wimbledon 
the  following  day,  chose, —  out  of  pure  perversity 
—  a  Florentine  picture  for  the  group ;  and  set  things 
right  among  them  in  this  manner,  without  error  or 
delay. 

Late  on  New  Year's  Eve,  to  make  a  story  that 
grows  long  too  short, —  for  all  the  intervening  inci- 
dents were  notable  of  their  kind, —  Charles,  on  his 
Christmas  visit  to  Glasswell,  at  the  very  tail  of  his 
holiday  and  of  his  hopes  as  well,  succeeded  at  length 


HOME  AFFAIRS  471 

in  ensnaring  his  eliin  lady,  and  in  bringing  her  to 
bay.  It  occurred,  this  crowning  incident  of  all 
romance,  in  Margery's  little  study  under  the  roof, 
whither  Miss  Ashwin  had  retired  with  a  large  book 
on  astronomy  and  a  chart  of  the  winter  heavens,  to 
watch  the  stars.  It  was  a  rivalry,  to  the  last,  for 
which  Charles  was  not  prepared:  indeed  his  sisters 
warned  him  earnestly  not  to  disturb  her  in  such 
company.  But  he  went,  and  by  his  passionate  per- 
sistence succeeded  in  diverting  her  attention  from 
them  finally;  getting  her  promise  in  terms  which, — 
if  astronomical, —  could  leave,  thanks  to  the  Ashwin 
instinct,  no  instant's  doubt  upon  his  troubled  mind. 

Thus  he  won  Violet, —  and  lost  Sir  Robert  Brad- 
ing  his  bet  in  the  same  neat  stroke,  scoring  both  in  a 
tumult  of  self-approval  and  towering  exultation, 
which  no  succeeding  arguments  of  Bob's,  that  the 
bet  was  lost  by  forty  minutes  only,  could  in  the 
smallest  degree  disturb. 

It  was  all  most  triumphantly  satisfactory,  from 
every  point  of  view;  but  there  was  a  side  to  the 
crowning  incident,  all  the  same,  that  should  not  be 
omitted. 

"  I  only  wanted  to  tell  you,"  said  Miss  Ashwin, 
standing  just  inside  Mrs.  Gibbs'  door,  "  that  Charles 
came  up  there  and  interrupted  me,  while  my  mind 
was  in  other  things,  and  so  I  am  afraid  I  capitulated 
by  inadvertence, —  before  I  knew  where  I  was." 


472  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

"  Indeed'?  "  Mrs.  Gibbs  sat  down  with  decision 
on  the  sofa.  "  Come  here,  you  absurd  little  shy 
thing,"  she  said,  "  and  tell  me  about  it  properly." 
Violet  closed  the  door  and  advanced.  She  touched 
a  chair,  passed  it  dubiously,  and  sat  down  on  the 
other  end  of  her  aunt's  sofa,  smoothing  her  skirts 
nicely,  before  she  clasped  her  knees.  She  was  still 
blinking  a  little,  since  she  came  from  the  dark,  and 
she  looked  very  white  to  Mrs.  Gibbs'  eyes,  as  though 
she  had  caught  some  of  the  pallor  of  the  long-dead 
worlds  she  had  been  watching  so  long. 

"  It  was  like  this,"  she  explained  to  her  hostess 
with  propriety.  "  I  had  been  reading  that  fat  book 
of  Robert's  on  astronomy  all  day,  full  of  new,  rather 
thrilling  things.  And  I  went  to  Margery's  room  to- 
night, where  the  atmosphere  is  pleasantly  studious, 
and  helpfully  dark,  to  think  some  of  them  out. 
Quite-new  things  are  rather  stiff,  you  know.  I  had 
not  expected  —  what  I  may  call  —  still  newer 
things,  just  then.  That  was  all.  Charles  is  so  un- 
expected, isn't  he"?  "  She  put  her  hand  vaguely  to 
her  brow. 

"  Are  you  quite  well,  my  dear?  "  said  Mrs.  Gibbs. 
She  felt  she  dared  not  touch  her,  at  the  moment. 

"  Oh,  quite.  I  only  came  in  here,  on  my  way 
downstairs,  to  explain." 

"  Why  did  not  Charles?  "  said  his  mother. 

"  Oh,  he  would  have,  only  he  wanted  to  rush  and 


HOME  AFFAIRS  473 

tell  them, —  the  bet,  you  know.  He  is  terribly 
pleased  about  it."  She  hesitated.  "  But  I  thought 
you  ought  to  hear  first  of  all.  Besides,  my  late  pro- 
ceedings may  have  seemed  rather  remarkable,  to 
some  of  you.  I  often  wondered.  Aunt  Henrietta, 
if  you  understood " 

"  Why  not  Mamma'?  "  said  Mrs.  Gibbs. 

"  Oh,  may  I?  "  Violet  lifted  her  delicate  brows, 
and  then  her  eyes.  Then  the  white,  wild  look 
changed,  and  she  fell  upon  Charles'  mother's 
shoulder,  and  cried  there  for  a  long  time,  quite  des- 
perately. Mrs.  Gibbs,  confident  that  she  had  never 
felt  a  mother's  arms  before, —  which  was  the  simple 
fact, —  held  her  jealously  close,  and  would  hardly 
abandon  possession  later  even  for  the  Rector,  far  less 
for  Charles.  She  was  certain  now  of  what  she  had 
acutely  guessed,  that  the  girl  had  been  infinitely 
nearer  to  the  breaking-point  than  the  man;  only,  as 
always  with  an  Ash  win,  one  could  never  tell,  the 
pose  was  held  so  successfully, —  until  they  broke. 

Violet  insisted  on  leaving  them  next  day,  though 
entreated  by  her  cousins,  and  practically  commanded 
by  Mrs.  Gibbs,  to  stay  at  Glasswell  and  rest.  She 
could  not,  they  gathered,  possibly  let  poor  Charles 
walk  straight  into  the  gaping  jaws  of  Harley  Street 
alone.  She  intended  at  least  to  accompany  him  to 
the  brink  of  the  ordeal,  and  had  already  warned 
Father,  by  post,  to  be  provided  with  adequate  leisure 


474  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

and  the  right  tone  of  voice.  These  measures,  she 
assured  them  all  at  the  breakfast-table,  were  strictly 
advisable  in  the  circumstances:  not  that  Father  did 
not  like  Charles  immensely,  of  course:  but  he  was 
a  trifle  arrogant  nowadays,  not  quite,  in  the  matter 
of  temper,  what  he  once  had  been,  and  pounced 
unpleasantly  when  not  prepared. 

"  You'd  rather  I  came,  wouldn't  you,  Charles'?  " 
She  finished.  And  Charles  said  shamelessly  that  he 
would.  He  added,  in  order  finally  to  exasperate 
his  sisters,  that  the  air  would  be  good  for  Violet. 
It  may  be  that  he  wished  to  wipe  out  the  memory 
of  a  former  drive  to  London, —  but  that  was  no 
excuse,  in  the  eyes  of  Maud  and  of  Margery  Brading, 
who  did  not  know  of  the  incident,  and  only  saw 
Violet's  present  exhaustion.  So  they  all  quarrelled 
till  the  last  minute  —  except  Robert  —  as  usual. 
Robert  merely  shook  hands  with  Miss  Ashwin  on 
the  doorstep,  very  hard:  and  lent  her  the  fat  book 
on  astronomy,  by  request,  in  case  she  should  happen 
to  be  bored  on  the  way  to  town. 

"  I  am  engaged  to  Mr.  Shovell,  Joliffe,"  Violet 
observed  gravely  to  that  functionary,  as  she  was 
getting  into  the  car. 

"  I  wish  you  happiness.  Miss  Violet,  indeed,"  said 
Joliffe.  "  I  congratulate  you,  sir."  He  marked,  be- 
yond any  question,  by  the  gathering  fervour  of  his 


HOME  AFFAIRS  475 

tone,  which  of  the  pair  he  thought  was  being  blest 
by  fate. 

And  Charles  was  so  blest,  as  a  fact,  that  he 
forgot  to  reckon  by  any  ordinary  measure  how  blest 
he  was.  For  it  was  only  when  Claude  Ashwin  merci- 
fully terminated  the  most  frightful  interview  of  his 
life,  that  he  realised  fully,  for  the  first  time,  that 
his  match  with  his  beloved  made  him  a  wealthy  man. 
Of  any  other  hero  than  Charles  we  should  despair 
of  having  this  believed;  but  Violet's  father,  who 
was  watching  his  face,  believed  it,  and  we  give  that 
evidence  for  what  it  is  worth. 

On  the  subject  of  the  ceremony,  there  were  storms. 
Mr.  Gibbs  was  the  most  eloquent, —  lofty,  indeed, 
in  tone. 

"  Charles,"  wrote  Mrs.  Gibbs,  "  who  points  out  to 
me  that  marriage  only  occurs  once  or  twice  in  one's 
whole  career,  is  in  favour  of  being  as  fashionable  as 
possible,  and  knocking  out  Brading,  whose  business 
last  autumn  seemed  to  Charles  below  the  average. 
Well,  you  say  Violet  agrees  with  Charles;  and  that, 
since  you  agree  with  Eveleen,  all  wits  jump.  And 
that  consequently,  a  London  show  next  month  is 
the  thing  to  make  for.  .  .  .  Claude,  I  remem- 
ber it!  Distrust  appearances.  Don't  you  be  taken 
in.    Go  at  her,  get  behind  her,  worry  her  little  life 


476  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

out  till  she  confesses.  She  is  letting  Charles  go  easy, 
because  she  has  used  him  hard.  She  is  not  of  his 
opinion, —  shouldn't  I  know'?  Didn't  she  tell  me 
in  this  room,  in  these  arms,  before  she  ever  left  me, 
what  she  wants'?  She  wants  to  be  married  quietly 
at  Glasswell,  by  her  uncle;  and  who,  I  ask  yxDu, 
should  do  it  better,  and  what  house  should  be  fitter 
than  his'^  It  is  a  very  jolly  house,  and  the  peas 
promise  finer  than  ever,  and  so  does  the  hay.  So 
don't  you  and  Eveleen  trouble  to  come,  if  you  are 
taken  up.  You  can  trust  the  job  to  me.  I  have 
practised  on  heaps  of  couples,  including  my  own 
maid,  now  a  Lady,  who  will  recommend  me." 

Of  course  she  was  married  at  Glasswell  finally, 
and  of  course  her  parents  came  down,  and  a  large 
and  fashionable  concourse  followed  them.  The 
village  hummed  with  motor-traffic,  and  even  by 
adherents  of  the  Rectory  family,  "  Miss  Margery's 
last  year  "  was  admitted  to  be  far  outclassed.  Lady 
Ashwin,  magnificent  and  cool,  arrived  unattended 
by  any  save  Alice  Peacock  and  her  own  husband: 
which  fact  considerably  surprised  the  world,  until 
the  reason  for  it  came  to  light.  Eveleen  had  a 
grudge  against  Claude  for  submitting,  against  her 
expressed  wish,  to  the  tiresome  folly  of  a  country 
wedding;  and  had  doubtless  been  seeking  in  her 
leisurely  mind  on  the  way  to  Glasswell,  how  best  to 
humiliate  him  and  spoil  the  general  entertainment. 


HOME  AFFAIRS  477 

"  I  may  as  well  tell  you,  my  dear,"  said  Alice  as 
she  dressed  the  bride,  "  your  mother's  nasty.  It's 
not  likely  you'll  get  a  chance  at  him,  the  state  she's 
in.  Coming  along,  I  couldn't  even  say  I  was  obliged 
to  him;  though  I  was,  as  usual,  several  times." 

It  was  as  Alice  acutely  predicted.  Eveleen  did 
what  such  a  naturally  conspicuous  person  could,  to 
wet-blanket  her  daughter's  festival,  but,  not  being 
in  her  own  house,  did  not  succeed.  In  spoiling  the 
pleasure  of  her  own  small  family,  however,  she 
succeeded  perfectly.  Claude  said  a  series  of  happy 
things  on  the  occasion,  in  a  perfectly  expressionless 
tone,  and  put  a  high  polish  on  the  ceremony  by 
supplying,  in  his  own  person,  details  which  all  the 
other  officials  forgot.  He  gave  his  daughter  in 
church  to  Charles, —  whom  he  also  saved,  by  an 
adroit  stimulus,  from  fainting  at  the  critical  moment, 
—  rescued  her  train  and  flowers  from  destruction  in 
the  melee,  and  watched  her  closely  to  the  very  last. 
But  his  wife  seemed  to  have  sworn  in  advance  to 
all  her  gods,  immortal  and  otherwise,  that  he  should 
get  no  word  in  private  with  Violet  before  she  left. 
The  whole  indignant  household  would  have  abetted 
him,  had  he  shown  fight  for  the  mother's  privilege 
he  certainly  could  have  clain  td,  but  he  made  no 
serious  resistance. 

Irreproachable  and  easy  to  the  last,  he  lifted  the 
little  bride,  shivering  with  the  unnatural  tension  of 


478  A  LADY  OF  LEISURE 

such  a  parting,  into  her  place  in  the  carriage,  kissed 
her  lightly  once,  and  left  her,  with  a  gesture,  in 
Charles'  hands  to  care  ior.  Then,  returning  home 
with  Eveleen,  he  put  the  rest  on  paper  that  same 
night. 

It  was  one  of  his  short  "  scrawls,"  conscious  and 
concentrated  in  manner  like  everything  to  which  he 
ever  set  his  name.  It  lost  nothing  by  that.  Match- 
ing perfectly  in  tone  the  high  moment  of  her  life  to 
which  he  destined  it,  it  could  not  be  quoted  in  its 
entirety.  But  we  may  betray  the  close,  since  it  wit- 
nessed to  his  knowledge  of  his  daughter,  a  knowledge 
which  serves  her  tale. 

"  Good-bye,  my  star,"  he  wrote.  "  You  have 
played  the  first  act  bravely,  may  you  play  the  next 
under  better  skies.  I  have  faith  in  the  man  you  have 
chosen,  if  for  no  other  reason,  because  I  have  seen 
how  you  watched  him  all  this  year.  In  the  racking 
moment,  I  imagine  it  is  generally  upon  the  woman 
that  the  burden  of  judgment  must  fall;  and  that  is 
how  the  double  happiness  is  made,  or  missed. 

"  Yours,  as  ever, 

"  C.  C.  A." 

That  was  the  issue,  at  least,  of  one  great  scientist's 
philosophy. 


RETURN     CIRCULATION  DEPARTMENT 

TO— ►      202  Main  Library 


LOAN  PERIOD  1 
HOME  USE 

2 

3 

4 

5 

6 

ALL  BOOKS  MAY  BE  RECALLED  AFTER  7  DAYS 

1-month  loans  may  be  renewed  by  calling  642-3405 

1-year  loans  may  be  recharged  by  bringing  the  books  to  the  Circulation  Desk 

Renewals  and  recharges  may  be  made  4  days  prior  to  due  date 

DUE  AS  STAMPED  BELOW 


ttaciR.^^^-«» 


§ 


M'- 


CO 


Ql 


If       S5       u^ 


^~T 


a- 


T^ — K 


§ 


> 

h2- 


*^r:^r»  I 


om^ 


-F^^ 


^^^zrm 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA,  F 
FORM  NO.  DD6,  60m,  1/83  BERKELEY,  CA  9472G- 


LD  21-lOC 


CDMBSDbTBfl 


^ 

^-■ZA. 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 

LIBRARY 

